I have mulled over the thought of beginning a blog for some time now. My main worry was that I had nothing anyone could use or gain from. That was until I started telling others about the crazy occurrences in my life. So I figure, you could at least gain a laugh while reading. Possibly some insight as well, to what though, is up to you. So here goes, enjoy- and you’re welcome.
That day, when I strolled to the dumpster I noticed the pharmacist’s husband pull up. He and I had become friends and we had a weird cat-mouse game. No, not a risqué-world-wind-whatever you’re thinking right now. It was a brother-sister, I’m going to beat the crap out you and make you cry, deal. Now that that is clarified, stay with me people.
When he stepped out of his car, we made eye contact and in that second I thought "I need to run from him." In that same second he thought, "I need to chase her." And we were off.
Not that I can run, for goodness sake I can barely walk. He is a tall man, whereas I am one of those people you want to pat on the head because I'm short. Don't. I'll bite you. The point is-he was on me before I could move.
By the time I reached the door, I was feeling pretty proud of myself for not dying somewhere in that sudden sprint. If you ever see me walk, you’ll understand. I jerked the door open and simultaneously looked behind me, just to judge how close he was.
I don’t know about you but I have already made peace with the fact that, if someday, someone does come after me. I’m gone. There’s no need to fight it-I can’t run even if I wanted to. To then add the stress of knowing something or someone is gaining on me. Nope. I can’t do it. Let’s just hope it’s quick. I’m assuming that’s why God didn’t make me a prey animal.
So here I am in the entry way of the door I had just slung open, I have now realized he is literally breathing down my neck. I’m not joking. I can feel it. If he wanted to end it right then, consider it done. So naturally, I let out an earth shattering scream. What else is there to do?
I'm not real sure what happened after that, maybe the excitement was just too much that my legs gave out? Or maybe I tripped. There’s really no telling. I went crashing (and I’m not meaning that lightly, I HURLED myself through this door) into the pharmacy, taking out a 50 gallon garbage can FULL of food for the homeless, somehow spun, and landed in (not by, not past, not even against- IN) the middle of our metal vitamin shelves. Oh but I didn’t stop there, I had gained so much momentum that I bounced off the shelves and came to rest in the middle of the floor (where there is to this day, a skid mark on the carpet where I came in for a landing).
Apparently when I crashed into the shelves, I dented 3 of the 5 shelves in flight. I had hit one of them so hard, it sliced my arm open and I was now bleeding on the carpet; profusely.
I managed to look up to the front of the pharmacy where everyone stood in awe of what had just happened. Remember, no one even knew the pharmacist’s husband was there. They hadn’t witnessed what had happened outside. I don’t think I can adequately explain the terror and confusion on their faces; their eyes were so huge I thought they’d pop right out of their heads. I’m going to be honest right here, I giggled.
I noticed the pharmacist’s husband was still outside, holding the door open. He was so stunned (which is hard to do because he worked in EMS and had seen a lot) he couldn't speak. He just reached behind his back and grabbed his radio on his belt to call for an ambulance, if needed. That also made me giggle. I'm assuming they all thought I knocked myself silly but at this point I was so embarrassed, it was either laugh at myself or cry. I chose to laugh.
When everyone caught sight of him in the doorway, it eased the tension of the situation. They began to laugh at me, I say at because I know better than to say with at this point. I assume they were all relieved I wasn’t being murdered or robbed. His wife however, immediately started sobbing uncontrollably. She told me later that she had thought he had killed me. I reassured her that he never even touched me, it was all self-inflicted.
My boss at the time appeared over me in disbelief and asked if I was okay.
It was then I noticed there was still a customer in the store. Great. The elderly gentleman made his way to me slowly (yes, I'm still lying in the floor) and peered over me. I got a simple, "That looked like it hurt," before he turned and walked right out!
In all honesty, I think it would have hurt less to have just let him punch me in the gut or something. Deciding to run was a regrettable decision on my part.
I have a scar on my arm to remember the occasion- you know, to go along with the trauma.