or; a tale of whoa . . . or woe . . . or both
(BlueDev, if a word of this gets to the parents, I don't care how much bigger or tougher you are, you'll go down . . . this is not for them)
So last Friday I was at work, and Lloyd and I were putting some PVC pipe up on a high shelf. I stood there, trying to hold my end up, while Lloyd persisted in wiggling his. Because of all his movement, all the PVC that I could'nt reach to hold came tumbling down - and right into my waiting face.
The bundle of pipe slammed into my glasses, which in turn collided with the bridge of my nose. My face began to flush, and my eyes began to gush. You know how it is, when anything close to your eyes gets hit, the ol' tear ducts start up, aiming for protection.
So I moved away from the shelving, laughing through my tears. Lloyd of course apologized, I told him that I hated him because he always hurt me, and I went back to work.
As the day continued, my nose continued to throb. It swelled up rather nicely, and while I was home for lunch I put in my contacts so that I wouldn't have the pain or the pressure of the glasses against my nose. I had (well, to be honest, still have) a wicked bruise where my glasses had impacted with my bone. A little embarrasing. But to top it all off, I was going on a date that night.
Thankfully, it was a girl from work, so she knew the whole story and thought it was funny.
This is a girl that I like a lot, and I was excited for our date. I went and picked her up, we went to dinner, etc., all the usual stuff that y'all don't really care about.
But then we got to the doorstep.
Now, we were discussing in the car on the way back to her place how it doesn't matter how well you know the person, or how many dates you've been on, doorstep scenes are always awkward. It was a funny conversation, and it certainly broke the ice concerning the end of the date, because of course it's awkward, but now we'd both discussed it.
So I walked her up to door. We talked for a bit longer, and I gave her a big hug. Then, being the sly cat that I am, I moved in for the kill.
She turned her face to kiss me back, and . . . our noses collided.
Awesome.
Normally, of course, that wouldn't have been a big deal, but with the current nasal situation, it was. My eyes started to gush again, and she burst. Out. Laughing.
Awesome.
So that was blown. She invited me in for a Kleenex, and declined, gave her another hug, and walked out to my car.
I pulled myself in, and looked through the tears at my statue of Buddah on my dashboard.
He seemed to smile at me and say, "Ho buddy, you just BLEW IT!!!!!!"
"Believe me, little Buddah, I know . . . boy, do I know."