Evidence that I am in fact the LEAST coordinated person in the world

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
21

I get into trouble when I try to act suave. Once I was entering a 7-11 and I noticed a beautiful girl at the check-out counter. I entered with a flare and the girl turned and noticed me. My right hand then slipped inside the horizontal bar and I closed the door on myself. I was floundering there with my body inside, and my right arm outside, stuck through the handle. I was still floundering as the girl passed me.

One summer evening I was walking around my apartment complex. I saw two cute babes batting a tennis ball back and forth on the courts. I “casually” walked over to a picnic table overlooking the court and, stylishly, sat one butt cheek on the corner of the table as I caught their eyes. But the plank I sat on wasn’t connected at the other end and I went straight to the ground as the board flew up in the air. I collected myself, winked at the dumbfounded ladies, and sauntered off into the gloaming.

22

Ex Machina, you know women love men who make them laugh :wink:

23

I’ve broken off the toenail on the littlest toe of both feet. Twice.

All four incidents occured at wide intervals during my teens, when my sister Margaret was of an age to ride a tricycle. We kept it in the house when not in use, and I’ve lost track of the number of times I used to merely stub my poor toes on that thing, without any nail breakages occuring. No, I couldn’t merely learn to avoid the spot we kept it in, because it never had one assigned location.

I also managed, a couple months ago, to somehow jam the leg of a dinette chair into the gap between the littlest toe and next toe of my right foot. I was running into the dinette to grab the phone, in hopes it was a callback from a job lead.

That one hurt! Huge huge purple black bruise on the sides of the toes that faced each other, across the top of the little toe, and in a wide spreading cone shape across the top of the foot, the peak beginning at the gap 'twixt the injured toes. I limped for days.

24

I never closed my tummy in doors when pregnant, but was always bouncing off things. Counters. Shower walls. Other people. Shopping carts.

Yes! I operated forklifts for years. They even gave me licenses. There were times they regretted this.
Especially when I ripped out my knee, just stepping off of one.

25

I constantly have mysterious bruises all over my body. And sometimes I whack things so that the bone gets bruised and doesn’t even show on the surface, like today when the screen door attacked my upper arm as I was walking into the front of my house.

I whacked my head on the car door jamb hard enough to see stars just a couple of weeks ago. And I have permanent bruises in certain places where I pass sharp corners regularly – desks, counters – and invariably fail to allow sufficient clearance.

I’ve dropped a full bottle on my own big toe hard enough to make the toenail fall off. And I broke my elbow teaching my daughter to rollerskate. (She remained unscathed, naturally.) It’s miraculous, actually, that I don’t have more broken bones. When wearing white, I just automatically cover myself up with a towel or something as a bib if I’m going to try to eat; I am apparently incapable of failing to spill food on myself. And my family still mocks me for the time I picked up a bottle of tea and gave it a hard shake to mix it up, forgetting that I’d loosened the cap just moments earlier.

I even have a coworker who’s very hard of hearing, walks very fast, and reads while she walks who managed one day to walk into an open door forehead-first and ended up having to have stitches.

We are not alone, people. We are not alone.

26

Once, while telling a story that required wild gesticulations to properly embellish the telling, I smacked a girl in the face with the back of my hand. I felt horrible!

Of course, later that day, I had to tell my friends about how I hit some poor girl while telling a story… And there was victim number two.

It’s also tradition that I slip on the ice at least once every winter. Not a little spill on the sidewalk, mind you, I mean the flailing arms and the shrieking as I’m going down, taking innocent bystanders with me. Whatever I’m carrying, purse or school bag, usually pops open with the impact or gets flung down the street, forcing me to crawl after everything. But last year was the best yet! Both feet flipped out from under me, leaving me flat on my back, just as a busload of tourists stopped at a red light beside me. Three dozen tourists whose faces all went “Oh!!” at the same time. What could I do? I waved at them!

27

I’m a dancer. (Or so I think of myself) I’m reasonably good at it too - luckily, there are no solid objects in the middle of the floor during dance classes, or something is looking out for me when I move to music.

I frequently trip over lines in rugs. I’ve hit my head on the car door/roof more times than the resulting brain damage will allow me to remember (it hurts. A lot.) I’ve walked into walls. Not just corners, and door jambs, but walls. They got in my way. I’ve generally stopped walking into short people, but that still happens. Corners of my desks? My chairs? Tables? All the time. Luckily, I don’t bruise easily.

I fell out of the top bunk in college. Not once, but twice. Both times, I fell onto my face. And neither time, can I blame it on sleep or “inattention.” I just fell. (“I fell out of bed” is not very plausible to the Medical Center nurses.)

28

This is so me.

I’ve gotten out of my car, turned around to pick up an item lying in the front seat and apparently forgotten my vehicle has a roof. “Thwack!”

The backs of both hands constantly sport bruises from where I whack them, in passing, on doorknobs and counters.

At work, I wear a hard plastic i.d. tag on a longish cloth cord around my neck. I have somehow managed to stab myself in the throat with it on several occasions. Yet, in over 16 years of lab work, I have never once impaled myself on a scalpel or syringe needle. It seems only blunt objects are a danger.
Oh, and even as I type this my tan polo shirt is adorned with a black bean soup stain acquired on my dinner break.

Sigh.
It’s so hard to convince anyone that I’m really a professional.

29

It’s always such a warm feeling to know you aren’t alone in the world. I, too, am a clutz. My speciality is falling down stairs and tripping for no apparent reason. While I’ve been unable to determine the exact cause of these events (perhaps, a scientific study is in order), I have over the years been able to finely tune such skills.

Yes, the tripping and falling, and friend exclaiming in an extremely loud voice “Oh my god, are you okay?” as I’m walking off an airplane in Minnesota was a high point. However, my personal best has to be the time I fell down two different flights of stairs in the same week, followed closely by my tumble down a short flight of stairs, face first, in a skirt, in front of my work colleagues.

30

I have a weak ankle, so I’ll occasionally (okay, fairly often) be walking, step wrong, and BAM. I used to fall on my face (great move for first dates), but I’ve since learned to only stumble.

I got a chest freezer for Xmas from my dad. The box had to be cut apart to get said freezer out. The next day (Yes, nect day. Cody’s slow at taking out the trash), I was attempting to walk over the flap that was laying on the floor. It got caught between my pinkie and, er, the toe next to it (ring toe? Noooo . . . that can’t be right), and proceeded to get a paper cut. BETWEEN MY TOES. It still hurts.

I also whack my head on my car door. The only car I’ve ever driven. Sigh.

I was putting my TV stand together a few days ago, and managed to take a nice chunk out of my knucle on one of the edges (“How did you do THAT?” asked the Cody. “None of the edges are sharp.”)

Which the kitten then proceeded to dig a kitten claw into.

And I continue to scrape on my popposan chair, food boxes, fingernails, etc.

31

I frequently whack myself in the head with my work phone. CLONK! “Ouch!!! 911, what is your emergency?”

We have headsets I could use, but I’d probably strangle myself.

32

I needed to laugh, so I’m loving this thread.

I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with you. Every week I go to the Y and put on my bathing suit, and on the way to the shower I check in the mirror to make sure nothing’s hanging out that shouldn’t be. Oh–where’d that bruise come from?

Not to worry. If I’ve whanged myself once, I will do it again, and then I will say, “Oh. So that’s where that bruise came from!”

Example: once or twice a week I am the last person to leave the office and I have to put the phone on “night,” whatever that does. I walk into the phone room and slam into the corner of a credenza that somebody really shouldn’t have put so close to the door. And then I say to myself, must remember not to do this again. Oh, wait, said that last week. Idiot!

Example: I have a permanent dent in my lower leg from where I kept slamming into the door of the dishwasher, until I finally figured out to close the dishwasher and keep it closed unless loading/unloading.

Example: I’ve had the same car for years, but occasionally it changes height and I can’t get into it without knocking my head between the roof and the door.

I think my personal best though was when I was at an office holiday party and on the way down the stairs (half-flight, landing, then the other half of the flight) I caught my spike heel in the hem of my long skirt (I knew there was a reason I liked really short skirts) and, after hopping down the first half flight managing to maintain my balance I thought, “Okay, I’ve made it,” and promptly lost it and rolled down the second half-flight. Somehow or another I ended up on my feet at the bottom of the stairs. My boss said, “You like to make an entrance, don’t you?” (yes, thanks, I’m fine. No, really. Really I’d much rather you made fun of me and laughed rather than offered me sympathy. Really) and her boss said, “Have another drink!” (I hadn’t had one yet)(but I got one; I got several).

33

I thought I was the biggest klutz around.
I have had several broken bones, and quiet a few stitches.

I’ll share a three of my favorite d’oh moments.

Back in 1992, I was running around in a park in the dark. I was running forward and looking back ward. Some one yelled at me to stop, I then turned my head and BAM, hit a bar at nose level. Broke my nose.
Fast forward to 1994, I was at a movie with stormchaser. I can’t remember what movie it was, but it was funny. I was laughing so hard, I leaned forward and hit my face on the seat in front of me. Guess what, I broke my nose again. By the time I got home, both of my eyes had turned a little bit black.
The winter of 1995, I was leaving my house. It was cold and icy outside. I opened our front door, stepped out and fell. That fall wasn’t so bad. I got up and started walking down the sidewalk. I started slipping again. I fell so hard on my butt it was bruised for two weeks. Normally, I wouldn’t have told anyone about it or showed my butt to anyone but stormchaser, but I was pregnant at the time. It was awful embarrassing to tell the doctor that I can not walk with out falling.

34

One that sticks out in my mind, was when I had my head in the fridge and my husband called me. Instead of backing out i stood up and BONK!!! Hit the top of my head in the fridge. I thought I was going to pass out, I saw black.

Another time, Hubby was washing the dog, when I walked in. He yelled at me to shut the door, so when I turned around to do so, I slipped on a puddle of water. One foot slammed into the door, and on my way down I slammed my elbow on the sink. Even the dog was laughing at me.

I think Hubby is the jinx.

35

Sign me up for this club. Oh yeah. There’s a reason you’ll never see me chewing gum.

I come from a long line of uncoordinated women. We have many fine qualities, but physical grace just isn’t among them.

My mother, for example, will never let me forget the time that she broke her arm. See, she was working as a crisis counselor at a shelter, and the phone started ringing. She was on the other side of the house, and she was also the only one there at the time. So, she started to run to get the phone. Well, there was a vacuum cleaner in her way, and instead of going around it, she chose to go over it. She tripped, fell into the wall, and broke her arm. As I sat there on the other end of the line, puzzling over why no one was answering the phone.

Me, I’m pretty good at not actually falling down. I trip a lot, though. Over things like lint, small insects, my own feet, you know. And the head-thwacking on the car? All the time. I’m especially prone to the same syndrome that dwyr described–turning to retrieve something from the car, and then hitting my head on the roof on the way out.

I think my biggest issue is with doors, though. I can never seem to remember that it’s the doorway one is supposed to walk through, not the actual door. And on the occasions that I do remember to open the door first, I forget to move myself, and usually end up thwacking myself anyway. :smack:

36

Walked downstairs to get something the evening of the 30th and on the bottom step had my right ankle just roll out from under me and heard/felt a muffled “POP.” Didn’t step on nuthin’ or miss the edge of the step; just went flump to the floor like a sack of wet laundry.

X-rays showed no break, but it’s still tender and there’s a gigantic bruise that runs the entire length of my foot along the side and across the instep all the way to the toes. It’s currently turning from purple to a remarkable shade of green.

37

I’d suggest having a convention, except that we’d all have problems before we ever got to the hotel.

My husband gets nervous now whenever I use a butterknife. Apparently he will never forget the gushing blood after a small slip when buttering some bread a couple of years ago.

I keep slamming the door of my new truck on my left foot.

I’m always kind of amused when someone dies in the movies after falling down the stairs. I must have fallen down mine at least once a week between ages 6 and 12, and I never so much as broke anything. Lots of sprained ankles, though.

I’m currently wearing teriyaki sauce from dinner.

38

That’s the funniest thing I’ve read today

39

by the way, I’m SOO a member of this club

40

Once while attempting to sit down in my car, I misjudged horribly and not only did I hit my head against the top of the doorway, I managed to break my sunglasses doing it.

I are smrt.