Thursday, March 19, 2009

TMI Thursday: That Time I Fell Off a Barstool

I have a boundless talent for drunken self-injury.

Just a few weeks ago, I banged up my right arm while attempting to open my door. The weird part wasn't that I decided to cushion the blow...with my skull. It also wasn't the fact my left hand came out unscathed, because that was the hand holding my keys. It's also not that this injury came about because I decided the door did not, in fact, exist. No, the part I simply do not understand is...I'm right-handed. Why the hell was I trying to unlock the door with my left hand?

Anyhow, my most famous drunken fall occurred back in Bogota. I'd been glugging martinis at Pravda, the Russian bar, with a friend, a work contact, and my spouse at the time. We lucky four decided solid food was the better part of valor, and to go get dinner at the Italian joint next door.

We were going to have to wait for a table, so we arranged ourselves along the bar, requested a bottle of wine, emptied it, asked for another. At one point, I decided, etiquette be damned, to pour myself a fresh glass. I leaned over. At that exact moment, a waiter bumped my chair.

I fell. By which I mean, I somehow positioned myself so artfully that not only did it take me full minutes to hit Earth, my head collided with a marble floor. It hurt. And by "hurt," I mean the double vision spiraled into triple vision, angry gnomes did a spike-heeled tapdance in every corner of my mind, and...OK, just this once I'll admit that I'm out of metaphors. That's how much it hurt.

The sad part isn't the hangover I had the next day, though I will contend there are few experiences more singular than a high-altitude red wine hangover combined with an al dente bump on the noodle. The sad part wasn't that I stayed for dinner regardless, as you're supposed to stay awake after you bonk yourself on the head. (I had the veal.)

No, the sad part was the email I got from one of the previous evening's companions, mentioning that he had just gakked into a flowerbed at the Mormon Temple. After all my efforts, somebody out-jackassed me.

10 comments:

Lemmonex said...

Putting the ass in class, babe.

Jo said...

Jeebus that sounds bad! Did you get a concussion? Marble floors are nasty. I tripped on marble stairs in a hotel lobby and fell on my knee, the massive bruise stayed around for a good week.

Shannon said...

Lemmonex - I also put the ass is dumbass, jackass, and chassis.

Jo - I probably should have gone to a doctor, and the next day was pure hell, but so far I haven't noticed any brain damage...oooh, shiny!

LiLu said...

OUCH. It is a loooong way down off a barstool. That's why I like to keep myself surrounded with friends... for cushioning when I go down.

justjp said...

Even time a Russian bar is involved, things go awry!

Shannon said...

LiLu - Sadly, everyone was in so much shock they didn't catch me. Francisco did make a valiant attempt, and nearly fell on top of me in the process.

justjp - If I ever go to actual Russia, we'll have to encase me in bubble wrap and pillows first.

Just A Girl said...

Shiiit, I would have done that sober. :) I have zero balance and walk into things constantly. On the plus side, I have a tendency to take people down with me when I fall, so I might have had some padding.

Shannon said...

Girl - I need to learn to do that! I mostly tumble on my own.

PorkStar said...

lol classic

Andry said...

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