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Ouch.

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Ouch.

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Bandanagirl - Vampire Red
I think I may have posted to Facebook that I managed to slip down the short (three-step) flight of stairs at work the other day, and land flat on my ass. Standard wet, hit the edge of the step wrong, feet go out from under you sort of deal. Andy the newest line cook is apparently associated with a volunteer fire-and-rescue department and has first aid training (not the higher levels, Jet, I asked) and he said that if I'd broken something he'd have been able to splint it. I said "yeah, but this time I managed NOT to get my hands out so I didn't wreck my wrist," at which point he told me that if I'd broken my tailbone, he could have strapped a sheet pan to my ass. This got me laughing and distracted me from the bruise the size of New Hampshire that was already forming.

This morning? I did it AGAIN. Not at work this time, but the last three stairs at home. Because I was hurrying down in socks. Before coffee. Bad idea.

The good part was that linoleum is much more forgiving than concrete. (I guess that means our subflooring is plywood. Makes sense.) The bad part was that I DID get my hands out, and while the wrist discomfort went away quickly, my left shoulder is now wrenched all to hell and gone.

Yeah. I wasn't lifting full cases today, I was opening up and carrying smaller loads.

The other amusing thing today was New Dishwasher Derek. (As opposed to Boss Derek.) Who wouldn't have been in my area much at all, except the dishwasher was malfunctioning, so while the repair guy was getting it sorted, New Dishwasher Derek was doing some of the prep stuff -- the really bozo easy things, portioning diced chicken into bags and slaw into containers.

Well, anyway, since he was going to be in my area for an extended period of time, I offered him the courtesy of making music requests. So he started scrolling through my iPod, and I said, "It's 30 gig and nearly full, so there's probably something." And then I looked at his sideways black-on-black LA Raiders cap, and his large neck chain, and said, "Unless you're looking for rap or nu-metal, because I really don't have much of that at all." He admitted I'd guessed right, but conceded that he liked Nine Inch Nails okay. I said, "hmm, if you like metal, see what you think of this," and put on Bella Morte's "Bleed the Grey Sky Black." He found it tolerable. Then I put on some nice crunchy industrial Anders Manga, and he really liked that.

Then he was done with the prep stuff, and I put on Sisters of Mercy just to balance things out. I like my Goth GOTHY, dammit.

I was going to say something about asking Derek (Boss Derek) about pricing live lobsters versus the crappy-but-convenient precooked-frozen stuff we use, because the last few allegedly 2-pound bags of it have been a full four ounces short, and the alleged claw-and-knuckle meat has contained a lot of bits from the little leggies, and it's been chapping my hide, really. I can break down a cooked lobster damn fast, I've been eating them since I was four. But Boss Derek has other bosses to go through, so who knows if they'll take me up on it.

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