Thursday, October 2, 2014

Is He Dead?



Yesterday Mark and I went up to Lowes to pick up a couple of kitchen cabinets that we had ordered. It all went well and according to plan, up to a point. The cabinets were waiting for us and a very nice lady helped me get them out to the car when Mark pulled it up to the doorway. She helped me lift them both into the back of the PT Cruiser, with the smaller one precariously sitting on the edge by the tailgate. So I pulled out my stash of bungee cords and proceeded to bungee cord everything into place and to secure the tailgate in a half open position. As I moved from the right rear side of the car, pulling the bungee cord across to secure it to the other side, I stepped on the pallet that the cabinets had been sitting on. I immediately knew it wasn't going to turn out well. In slow motion, I saw the bungee cord snap back across my arm, the tailgate fly back up, and the gray pavement of the parking lot with the yellow caution lines painted on it, racing up towards my face. I hit the ground with a thud and a loud crack. With pain shooting through every part of me, I lay there and quietly surveyed the situation. I was very proud of myself, I did not curse but lay there motionless. I continued to lay there, and from behind and above me I could hear voices all around me.
"Don't move him! You'll get sued."
"Is he dead?"
"Sir, are you dead?"
"Honestly, do not touch him. You will get sued."
"I saw the whole thing, and I've got a good lawyer mister."
"Did anybody call 911 yet."
This whole time I am laying there on the ground, and I can see the side of Mark's head in the rear side-view mirror. He is looking down, and I know that he is fucking with that goddamned iphone while I lay in pain in the Lowes parking lot.
"Sir, should I get your friend?"
I plaintively try to call out Mark's name, but the pain is shooting through every limb, and my foot is still twisted and trapped within the slats of the pallet.
"Mark, oh god..... "
"So mister, should I call my lawyer?"
"I think he broke something. Call 911."
In the rear view mirror I can still see that Mark is not aware of anything going on only a few feet behind him. Even with the tailgate wide open and all the people gathering around, Mark is unaware. Finally the Lowes employee walks up to the driver's side window and taps on it. Mark slowly gets out of the car and sees me bloodied and laying on the pavement.
"Oh my god Alan, you didn't break any of the cabinets did you?"
No, no I did not break any of the cabinets. The one cabinet that had been balanced off the back of the PT Cruiser had fallen out, but it did not break. It had landed flat on top of me. My fat ass had cushioned it's fall, and it was just fine.

4 comments:

  1. Holy crap Alan. I hope you're okay. Next time if you order stuff like that, have it delivered. If you have to pick it up, leave Mark at home!!

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  2. Are you sure you don't want to sue? "Bad fall? Better call Saul."

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  3. I'm so sorry Alan. That looks like it hurts like hell.
    We are getting to the age where the last steps in DIY projects involve calling 911. My girlfriend is just as clueless when I crash fixing/building/hanging something she bought. P.S. Dog saliva is an analgesic.

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  4. I just took two pain pills and I am now going to walk dogs at the shelter. I'll give each one of them a crack at licking my leg. Hopefully the dogs won't think my offering of blood is for eating. I also have a nice rope burn where the bungee cord whipped across my bicep.

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