Hey, You Dropped Your Cheese

Blamo!... Slam!... rattle, rattle.  Hear that?  That’s the sound I imagine I made during the  painful, embarrassing and painfully embarrassing header i took on the bus this morning.   I didn’t actually hear it.  I was listening to Spoon, so to me my swan dive sounded remarkably like the lilting cadence of Britt Daniel's voice.  But man oh man, it MUST have sounded like a rhinoceros tumbleweed.  That’s how hard I fell. Yep.  That’s right.  I’m THAT loser.  The one that you see fall on the bus. I write this while I ice my knee, the part of my body that bore the brunt of my plummet.  Took the bullet, as it were.  Let’s have a moment of silence for the fallen.  Godspeed left kneecap.  You were a faithful and proud pivotal hinge joint.  Your bravery in the face of impending “smashery”  was beyond commendable.  I shall miss you terribly. 

I blame the second step at the back of the newer modelled buses.  I curse you superfluous step!!  And toe of my high-heeled boot… if you’re not part of the solution, you're part of the problem.  I curse you too.  I couldn't even say exactly what happened.  It was all happening in slow motion and simultaneously at light speed.  How is that possible?  In the end I don't think it was any one thing that toppled this giant.  I'll call it an unfortunate sequence of events.  There was a bit of the it's-so-early-it's-still-dark-out fogginess coupled with lust due to the previously referenced dreamy indie rocker.  I realized almost instantly that I'd forgotten about the second step and actually had plenty of time to re-adjust. In my head it went something like this, "Oh shit, I'm gonna fall. Wait.  No, I'm not. I got this."  And then I think the toe of my boot caught on something and that was it.  Next thing I know I was on the ground.  Did I mention I was wearing a skirt?  WAY too many people saw my pink and brown polka dot panties before 8 AM than EVER should.  EVER.  Ok maybe not EVER.  Kidding. 

Now here's the thing about when adults fall in very public places.  It's funny.  It's ALWAYS funny.  Someone, somewhere at this very moment is writing about the idiot she saw fall on the bus this morning.  I'm here to tell you, that idiot was me.  But since we've all at one time or another done something like this we all know that there a couple ways to handle the aftermath:

1) Pretend like it was someone/something else's fault.  Act indignant and storm off waving off any kind strangers' attempts to ask if you're okay.  

2) Get up, look humiliated, shuffle away quickly, head down. 

3) Act hurt.  Really, really hurt.  Tears would be good in this situation.

4)  Laugh your ass off.

My response was sort of a cross between 2 and 4.  But what I really, really wanted to do was to just sit my ass down on the floor of that bus, cross my legs indian-style, blink up at my stunned co-passengers and in my best imitation of a kid's voice state loudly,  "I fell down!"  [Look at hands and back up at even more confused passengers] "I fell down. I hurted my knee.  See?"  Because the truth is, no one ever laughs when little kids fall down.  And come to think of it falling 80 year olds elicit a surprising lack of mirth as well.  Little kids and 80 year olds.  Man those guys get all the breaks.  (Pun definitely NOT intended.)  

As I finally stepped off what will heretofore be referred to as "the hell bus" and tried to not limp to my building, I felt a tap on my shoulder.  Great.  Some well meaning student was holding out her hand palm up.

"Hey.  You dropped your cheese." 

 I glanced down to see that she was holding my mini string cheese.  It must have tumbled out of my lunch bag in the hullaballoo.  She had chased me down for a piece of cheese.  A black hole opened up on the bus and I fell through.  Now I was just trying to make sure I climbed out on the correct side and she's worrying about a piece of cheese.  I couldn't help myself.  I just stopped there in the street and laughed.  Hard.  

I keep playing that line in my head.  

“Hey.  You dropped your cheese.” 

Trust me doll,  that’s not all that got left behind on the rubber-matted floor of the 114C not the least of which was my pride.  

Do you think I could call up the metro transit authority to see if anyone turned in grace and dignity to the Lost And Found today?