A Summer Memory

It was not, as I recall, one of my better summers. I had been doing temp work at a bank where I was hoping to get hired permanently. At the time, I had been recently dumped the evening of a semi formal dance and I was having a hard time coping. I was so upset and distracted that I had an accident in the bank parking lot. It seems I backed into someone’s BMW and dented it. Ok, the thing crumpled like a beer can. The owner was my boss’ boss, Dennis. So much for a permanent job.

My nonexistent love life getting on my nerves, working out regularly helped me relieve some stress. It was paying off in that I was at least getting stronger and feeling pretty fit. One of my best friends was famous in our circle for throwing some great house parties. The upcoming backyard summer Olympics promised to be no exception until…..

I arrived at Paula’s house late as usual and after the standard picnic overeating the alcohol came out. I do not recall overindulging that afternoon. This is sort of a shame since I don’t have the ‘hold my drink and watch this’ excuse that frequently precedes these kinds of mishaps. True to form, the party was well planned. Games were set up and there were prizes to be had. For some reason, I decided to try my hand at some of the games. Henceforth referred to as mistake number 2.

Mistake number 1 was probably staying sober. As I mentioned, I was working out and feeling pretty fit. Still, I went for something easy just to get a prize. Accountants are not known for hand eye coordination or fine motor skills so anything requiring aim of some form was out. I went for a jump rope contest and won easily. Shortly after that, it happened. There was a tug of war.

About eight of us, guys and girls mixed, four on each side were set up, rope in hands. Shortly before this (mistake number 3) I decided that I was going to try my hardest against the other team and really dig my heels in. As we started, two people on my side fell away and the third let go. I stubbornly hung on. (Note to self: feminine pluck and determination, however admirable cannot alter the laws of physics.) I fought the law and the laws won.

I am told a photo of me in mid-air exists although I’ve never seen it. I do, however, remember the landing. It was more of a bounce followed by a thud. Something in my hip went – and I quote – “CRACK!” When I didn’t get up under my own steam, Paula flew into action. I had a ride to the emergency room and my car was taken care of.  Luckily, John, a friend who hadn’t completed his residency, was drafted and off we went.

After the x-ray, John helped me hobble onto an exam table where I waited for the results. While he chatted with the doctor reviewing my films, I was answering a bunch of questions from the nurse. “Any allergies?” “No.” “Any chance you’re pregnant?” “No.” (See nonexistent love life.) “How did you get here?” “Abject stupidity.” “Oh, John drove me.” After explaining to me what an acetabulum is and how I managed to fracture mine the doctor sent me home with a pair of crutches and some groovy pain medication.

A week later I went back to my temp job. I passed my boss’ boss in the hallway with my crutches. I’d swear he was smiling a little too broadly! Miraculously, I managed to get hired permanently. “Welcome to the company.” My boss said. “Dennis wants to know where you plan to park!”