Friday night I went to the book store with Bob the Gunsmith; on the way there his phone rang, and we got diverted to get some peanuts & pecans for his mom. At Wal Mart.
"I don't wanna go to Wal Mart! Can't we go to the grocery store?"
"I just need to run in and get this one thing. It'll be just a minute."
"Bob, it's physically impossible to just 'run in and out' of a Super Wal Mart. Plus, every time I set foot in there, I turn into a raging elitist. I start thinking fond thoughts about eugenics. Genocide seems not only plausible, but attractive. I ponder the feasibility of an IQ-and-good-taste selective lethal virus, maybe triggered by a combination of polyester fumes and singing a certain note heard only in Britney Spears songs..."
"Just last week you were showing me that goofy video on YouTube and going on about how we were all part of the human race..."
"I was drunk at the time, Bob. I don't want to get in the cage with the monkeys, no matter how cute they are on YouTube."
We went to Wal Mart, I didn't get all genocidal (and Merck has yet to get back to me on my designer virus proposal), and we went on to Border's, where I bought the first P.J. O'Rourke book I've ever bought in the Economics section.
Saturday and Sunday were absolutely zoo-like at the shop. Democrats in Congress, the recent heavily publicized carjacking/double murder, and income tax refund time have combined to create a perfect storm in the gun store. We sold like five M4-type AR's on Saturday and Sunday alone. Sunday one of our guys was helping the TN National Guard protect the state from camel-borne invaders, and we were consequently a person short. The range was full and we ran a waiting list all day long.
At one point in the day, I took advantage of a lull to run next door for a pack of smokes. And by "run", I mean "run". I went to hop the fabric erosion control fence at the bott om of the hill, and the toe of my left boot just snagged the top of the fence.
I augered in pretty hard. I tried to tuck my arm and roll onto my left shoulder, but my reflexes aren't quite as catlike as they were, and all I succeeded in doing was pulling my left arm up and out of the way, allowing my entire body weight to crash down on my left boob.
I didn't know the sky could turn that color.
When I regained my breath, I looked around to make sure nobody had seen, then walked into the convenience store. To be greeted by "You okay? Damn, I saw you hit the ground and I was like, 'Oh! She must really be hurt! Get up, Girl!' You sure you're okay?", thereby ensuring that my pride was bruised as thoroughly as my ribs, which still hurt like heck today, thankyouverymuch.
...and that was my weekend.