I'll Tumble For Ya

 
On any given Thursday around 12:45, you will find me rushing off, backpack in tow, to catch a really good Yoga class at NYSC. 
 
I'm usually with my friend Jen, and we usually exit out the 50th Street exit and take Park Avenue to the Grand Central location. Last Thursday, I was sans Jen, and for some inexplicable reason, exited on Madison Avenue and found myself submerged in a sea of midtown lunch-seekers who were trying to get a smidgen of sunlight before having to head back to their rat-sized cubicles.
 
One of those non-multi-tasking type people was walking in front of me--you know who I mean...they're texting or dialing a number or reading the paper but forgetting to walk..if you can't do both at the same time, step aside, asshole!!!  I tried to get around her as I was bordering on being late for yoga, and somehow, my stupid, stupid heel caught on the sidewalk and I went down like a stack of dominos.  It was not a pretty sight.  My one concern was that I didn't see anyone from my office.  My other concern, that my skirt wasn't exposing my ill-fitting boy shorts for the world to see.
 
In a daze, I sort of just sat there, and the only person nice enough to stop and help was a little old lady.  She kept asking if I was ok, and I kind of wanted to tell her to fuck off, but that wouldn't have been cool, so I would smile and hope she would know that meant I was ok.  But she kept asking, and I kept smiling, and finally I managed to eke out a "Yes, yes, I'm fine.  Thank you."  She finally fucked off, and I managed to get myself up.  In the fall, my shoe must have twisted off, so now I had to inconspicuously put my shoe back on without looking like a homeless drug addict that walked around with only one shoe on.
 
 
I'm happy to report that I came out of the mishap with a skinned knee, really bad sidewalk burn, and a little bit of a limp. Not nearly enough damage to warrant a huge amount of sympathy. But a girl can try, dammit!