Who Do I Think I Am??

This one's about stones and bones?

THE PROMPT: "Write a short something using the words 'stones' and 'bones'."

What's the good word y'all? Seems like Brother Nature doesn't have any for the prompt, so SapphireRainee gave us two words for today, which, given the circumstances, sound like "open prompt" to me. And that's good, because I have a story to share for a change and there hasn't been an open mic night around here in awhile.

I will be sure in the future to watch what I say about the elderly or handicapped.

As I'm sure some of you are aware, in December I fractured and dislocated my ankle, along with a few torn ligaments. There's a plate and a total of seven screws in there now. It's not the first time in my life I've broken any bones, but this has been the most inconvenient, as I am or at least try to be an independent person.

Yesterday, for example, I tried to go grocery shopping by myself. The two closest grocery stores aren't within safe crutching distance, I really needed lunchmeat, and was unsure when I might be able to get a ride, so I took the bus. That part wasn't difficult.

Now, since I can't walk, I figured I'd take advantage of those motorized shopping carts they have for handicapped and elderly. You know, you sit down and drive 'em around, and they have a basket in front for your shit. No problem!

Yeah...these things have the top speed of a baby crawling.

Now, before I continue, I want to share two things I've learned while using crutches to get from all points "A" to all points "B": 1) People don't care if you're on crutches if they're walking and you're in their way; and 2) Just because a building is "handicapped accessible" doesn't make it any easier to get in or out of. The first point...people are just plain rude and ignorant. I always give up the seat on the bus or trip over myself getting out of peoples' ways...but there've been a few times where if I didn't move at the last minute from a stationary position while on crutches, I would've been easily walked into. Maybe if these dudes weren't too busy trying to make eye contact with me they'd see the need to take a step over. And the second point...I get it...there's a fair amount of physics involved, but if you look at it and think about it, handicapped ramps leading into buildings are longer than staircases, and are often positioned out of the way from regular, unhandicapped people and their path. True story.

Anyway, back to yesterday. So I'm cruisin' around Tops Friendly Market primarily to get some lunchmeat and snacks. This motorized cart is going .000002mph. And fools are looking at me like they're not getting outta my way and I won't try to hit them. And if I had nothing better to do, I would've hit them. But believe it or not, those things are hard enough to drive as it is, especially when you're trying to balance your crutches in the basket because they don't fit, and there's a pedal on the floor of the cart that is neither gas nor brake.

I got the goods to make sandwiches and remembered my secondary mission: to get Slim Jims and Reese's Pieces Pastel Eggs, because the CVS across the street from me is useless and doesn't carry dietary staples or Easter novelty necessities. I conveniently remembered this fact as I passed a display of Easter candy, oddly enough at one end of the beverage aisle. I needed to be in the beverage aisle anyway, and assuming my good fortune, tried to turn around to get some Mountain Dew.

Now's a good time to note that these carts don't drive like cars. Or anything else that would make sense.

I knew spacing in the aisle was tight, but I had plenty of room to make a three-point turn. However, the start/stop on these machines is very herky-jerky, and you have to press buttons indicating "forward" or "reverse", and instead of a steering wheel the handlebars have more like throttles, but they don't rotate the way you'd think they would to logically make the damn thing go, and instead of a three-point turn in a cramped aisle it was an eight-point turn that ended between bags of white cheddar propcorn and Marshmallow Peeps. And I, in the driver's seat, was perpendicular to the aisle's parallelness.

In all of what seemed like four seconds, I think I made 37 different movements, including assuming that pedal on the floor of the cart was a brake. With my left foot. The one with a giant inflatable boot on it. But I was too panicked between worrying about hitting things and hitting things to notice that. Eventually, I made it home.

I settled in and made myself a sandwich. As I was seated, I noticed a little pain in my ankle. I had the boot off, as I'm allowed to do when I'm at home. I started poking around near the big scar for the first time. I felt it...for the first time, I felt like what felt like the head of a screw, right under my skin. It felt gross and awesome at the same time. It didn't feel quite as awesome when I awoke in the middle of the night because of my foot, and had a harder time getting back to sleep.

I also realized that while I spent over $50 on sandwich stuff and crackers and Dew, I totally forgot Slim Jims and Reese's Pieces Eggs. I wasn't happy. I figured about the only thing that could've made my shopping trip worse would've been if Tops had the motorized carts in the back of the store and completely out of the way.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

Two words...Little Bones.

VITAL STATS:

Unless there's some kind of miracle and I've got internet access tomorrow, I'm taking Sunday off in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" . Because it's Sunday. It's my day of rest.

Besides the hockey emoticon, here's an updated list of emoticons WDC needs to add to their arsenal: white bread, wheat bread (or toast), handicapped, wheelchair, motorized wheelchair, bus, smart ass, In Your Dirtiest Pants 's "shit, son", martini glass, beer mug, and cowbell.

It's Saturday...tired of draggin' my stones around this town for another week. Gonna head home, make a sandwich, watch the first season of Sanford And Son on dvd, catch some rest, and call it a weekend. Peace, and two words...GOODNIGHT NOW!!