February was quite a crazy month. To go along with a very little amount of work, I had some problems with the law. Minor problems. Traffic violations essentially. Don’t worry, that story is still on the way. As February made way for March, things began to turn around. I got all of my problems with the law handled, and got a sizable job finished for a client. This of course led to a payday. So now that I am back to my usual slightly askew self, I have another great story to tell.
My friend, who we shall refer to as D from here on out, has been having some relationship issues. I know, who doesn’t? But on this particular night, in some rather inclement weather the pain and strife of the heart was manifested into physical pain. Not pain from one to another, but self inflicted. Now that I have your attention, I’ll give some of the back story.
D and her man were in an obviously public, but furiously denied relationship. Part of the reason they denied involvement was this simple fact. They worked together. (Now I’ve really got your attention.) Personally, I don’t think you should ever dip your pen in company ink. But, I have been know on occasion to fail. Enough about me. Back to the love story of pain and anguish.
On a snowy Sunday in March, the night was growing longer by the minute, and the bar was shrinking. Customers were leaving one or two at a time and they were being replaced with empty bar stools. A sign that most people had spent to much time watching the weather today and decided to stay in for the night. The bartender cuts half the staff. This pretty much doubles the amount of people drinking at the bar. The girls sit down and have a drink and discuss how they made no money and didn’t want to go outside because it was cold. Within a half an hour, Bert the bartender/manager/lone clocked in employee walks down the bar, looks at me and utters a few words. “Yo, I’m gonna close in a few. We need to find a place to drink.” Someone makes a mad dash for a phone book. A few calls are placed, the bar is cleaned and closed. Off we go into the wild white yonder.
We make it to another spot. There are three people at the bar. We rolled in with five more. Mel, the bartender seemed happy to see us. Now the fun begins. The original three people at the bar consisted of D’s not so boyfriend and two of his buddies. She immediately sits down at the complete opposite end of the bar and looks rather pissed. I of course, inquire about what is in the works. She explains that he was out with another girl the other night and they haven’t talked since she found this out. As she stares menacingly into her beer I now realize that tonight is going to get really interesting.
So shots are downed, and Jen decides to climb onto the bar. Funny, but since she is a klutz we convinced her to get down. D continues to drink and look mad. Bad combination. All of the sudden someone has the great idea to have a snowball fight. Idiots. They all ran outside. I walked to the bathroom. Upon returning to an empty bar I laughed and looked to the TV for company. What seemed like seconds later people come running back inside, shaking off snow like a blizzard was rolling through. D is now even more angry. Her boy and his buds pegged her a few times. One snowball even caught her in the face. Now she wants to confront him. I thought, this won’t be to bad. We know everyone in the bar. If a little bit of a scene happens, no big deal. Night proceeds, she stays mad and I’m just chatting with the manager who seems content with us running a muck. Most everybody wanders back outside to smoke/throw more snowballs.
While the manager and I are talking, D runs right by us. Our conversation stops and we both turn to see her fly out the door. And fly she did. Deciding to take a shortcut, she skips going down the ramp and hops right over the railing.
FAIL. She slips and drops like a rock on the other side of the rail. She hit so hard I didn’t even have time to find the humor in what just happened. I thought she did a faceplant. I was wrong. She was merely inches away from a faceplant. As fast as she fell she got upright and took off. The manager and I were still stunned. He turns to me and says, “Is she alright?” I calmly took a sip of my beer and replied, “She got up and ran off. I’m assuming she’s fine.” She wanders back inside a few minutes later. I asked her how her trip was and proceed to inform her that we saw everything through the extremely clean glass door. I laugh, she gets embarrassed. I shoot off a couple of text messages telling people they should be out because we are having a blast.
Fast forward to Monday afternoon. I know D hurt her wrist, so I send a quick text while I’m out running errands to see how she is doing.
She informs me her wrist hurts like hell, she bruised her knee and her leg. I then called her a mess, she agree and explained that it’s not that big of a deal and that she is glad everything is over and done with. D and her not so boy talked earlier and she got the closure she so desperately needed.
Proceed to Monday night. She’s now wearing a brace on her wrist. I still laugh, but I also feel bad for her. Then I begin to crack up. Some how I missed the most obvious joke throughout this whole ordeal. It’s now 2:34am on Tuesday and I send this text message to D: “This seriously just hit me. You give new meaning to the phrase ‘falling head over heels’.
She hasn’t talked to me since, but I’m damn sure she laughed.