A few years ago, I walked out into the back garden, and saw my sons skateboard. “Huh,” thinks I. “I used to be pretty good on a skateboard. I bet I still am…”
Famous last words.
30 seconds later, I am lying flat on the ground, my left arm is numb, and I am thanking my lucky stars that:
a) I avoided cracking my skull on the cobbles
b) no-one was around to observe, and I can claim I tripped on a carelessly left out skateboard
c) hi, Opal
I spent a month off work with a broken elbow.
Si
I was at a friends house for a few days and they have a step thats out of size with the rest of the stairs on that particular set, evidently it gets everyone sooner or later. I walk out the back door and there are at least 20 people in the yard, I look around for my mom and feel my foot go all wonky when I hit the smaller step, I push off with the other foot instead of try to catch myself on the twisted one and to a full on ninja roll/somersault pop back to my feet without a hitch and NO-ONE SAW ME!!!
Or, if you’re like me, you use a fitted sheet to cover up the boxspring because it gives a nice, finished look that matches my decor and bedspread without a skirt. I don’t really care for bedskirts, but neither do I like the fabric finishing on my boxspring. Covering it with a fitted sheet is cheap and changeable, and gives a nice tailored look.
I have a cartoon-like one that I thought no one had witnessed. I was watering the garden in a sundress and hit an underground yellowjacket nest and they all swarmed out at me. Before I even realized it several of them had gotten under my dress and started stinging me. I threw the hose up in the air and started running for the house and yanking my dress off at the same time. Then I tripped over a shovel and smashed my knee on some concrete steps at which point I sat down and starting crying. I thought that no one had seen it but it turns out that my partner was watching but he was laughing so hard that he didn’t come outside.
I was whizzing along on a forklift one time approaching an open freight door. This door was in a brand new building and the lip at the bottom of the door was a little higher than I was used too, a little higher than, in fact, my forks happened to be at the time. For those that don’t know, when you run into something with a forklift, it simply stops dead in a manner that seems to defy physics. For the driver ( me ) though, physics continues to be the heartless bitch that it is. I ended up upside down clinging to the steering wheel for a few moments before I figured out how to rotate myself back into the seat. I quick look around lead me to believe that no one had witnessed my little comedy show. This belief wasn’t disabused for nearly a year when the sole witness decided to relay the story in front of a large gathering.
A few years back I was riding a pallet jack like a skateboard or scooter while holding on to the handle for steering. I was going at a pretty good clip through a pair of double doors and misjudged how close to the side I was when the jack slammed in to the door jamb and stopped as I went flying over the handle ass over elbows.
My first instinct was to look around - luckily my idiocy had no witnesses.
I’m very skilled at stupid human tricks.
There was the time when I put on lip plumping lipstick just before an interview and ran around the house screaming because my lips were burning.
There was also the time when I forgot to put on my shirt for an important client presentation. I had just found out I was pregnant a few days before, so I was really distracted. I got ready very early in the morning to go to my meeting and was striding toward my car when I realized it was really freaking breezy. I looked down and I was wearing just my suit jacket and bra. I quietly slunk back into the house and put my shirt on, checked to make sure I was wearing everything else I was supposed to and took off. Fortunately no one was in the parking lot (we were in a condo complex with a shared lot).
I have a bit of the ADD, and when I was in the 8th grade, I was attending a particularly boring English literature class. I decided to occupy my time by using the pair of scissors I had to chip away at the eraser on top of my pencil. I did this by holding the pencil against the palm of one hand and using one of the scissor blades to dig into the eraser with my other hand.
Of course, I wasn’t satisfied when I had gotten almost all of the eraser, so I dug mightily at the last bits. A little too mightily, in fact, because I ended up pressing down so hard that I split the pencil in half, sending the scissor blade straight down in my palm before I could stop myself. I still don’t know how I managed not to yelp, and no one else seemed to notice me, but I managed to interrupt the teacher’s lecture by quietly raising my now-injured hand. Seeing the blood running down my hand and arm, he quickly excused me.
I did that. It gives you a real thump doesn’t it.
I was feeding my cat. The tab top snapped off. I used an opener but it just barely missed taking it all off due to a slight dent. I bent the lid out and as I worked my finger under the lid I thought, "if this snaps back I could get cut’ . …6 stiches. dumb
Jeezum, you’re lucky. That’s how Louis Braille went blind. :eek:
My latest klutz–you know how an aerosol can says “line up the red spots on the nozzle and the can”? Don’t do that with the red spots toward your face, and a touchy nozzle. I ended up spray-starching the area to the left of my left eye.
[quote=“gigi, post:30, topic:472118”]
Jeezum, you’re lucky. That’s how Louis Braille went blind. :eek:
QUOTE]
Ridiculously lucky. I was shaking afterward as I realized how close I came to losing my eye.
When I was in high school…
I was playing with a pool ball on my granddad’s pool table. I was trying to see how many times I could get it bounce off each of the far bumpers before it stopped. I pushed the ball extremely hard into the far bumper. After it hit that bumper it bounced back in the air in hit me in the left eye. Oh my god that hurt, and hurt for a long time. I never told anyone what happened. I figured anything they could come up with would be better than what actually happened.
Because if nobody saw you, you could Ten Second Rule the food, right? 
I can’t count the number of nobody-saw-me accidents. The most spectacular public ones have involved somersaulting down stairs in public places (two separate occasions, only one broke a bone) and plummeting down the last few steps of an escalator (just sprained my ankle that time).
Probably the most spectacular no-witnesses one was stepping up onto a curb in a parking lot. One of those things that separates different sections of a parkling lot, with a curb, a grassy bit about 8 feet wide, then another curb and more asphalt.
I failed to lift my foot enough. It caught. I stumbled. Went running trying to get my feet under me to avoid the fall. Failed to do so, as I ran across the grassy bit, back down to the asphalt on the other side, and finally face-planted onto the asphalt. Chipped one tooth, got road rash on the palm of one hand, and broke the elbow on that same arm.
Shame nobody saw it, actually, it was probably rather interesting to see (the parking lot was for aan under-construction condo complex).
I’ve completely lost count of the times I’ve banged my head on the doorframe of my car. Or stubbed my toes. Bruises of unexplained origins are quite common. I gouge my fingers with my own fingernails quite often too.
sat on the toilet reading a paper smoking… because my tackle kinda obstructs the front orifice i leant forward and drop the cigarette behind me.
Only it didn’t go down the pan. It was craftily waiting for me on the rear of the seat when I straightened up to reach for the ass shower behind me it welded itself to my a$$!
ouch!
I bought liquid laundry detergent and put it on the floor in the kitchen while I gathered my laundry to take to the washer. Living alone, I strip off what I’m wearing and add it to the to-be-washed basket. Walking barefoot and naked to retrieve the detergent, I fail to notice the liquid detergent bottle’s small hole resulting in a very large puddle of clear liquid soap coating my tiled kitchen floor.
I never see it coming.
Large naked girl, soap-covered tiled floor.
My feet go out from under me and the back of my head hits the tile first. Pain, then confusion then gratitude at being alive, then gratitude that no one saw me do this.
I can’t get up. I wriggle onto my stomach, now entirely coated on both sides with soap. Can’t push myself up–hands slide out, knees slide out from under me. Now I have a face-ful of liquid soap since my long and curly hair, which probably saved me from concussion, is soaked with same. Now I’m effectively blind. I crawl to the edge of the dining room and slither onto the carpeted living room floor. I spend the next few hours cleaning myself and every floored surface of my apartment of liquid soap, all the while having dark fantasies of being found dead, days later, in a congealed puddle of soap.
UncleRojelio, that witness merits close scrutiny. It’s evil to lurk around that long.
I’ve crammed a finger up my nose while vigorously washing my face. Bled like crazy, at least on one occasion. (yes, I’ve done it more than once)
I slammed my head in my car door a few months ago. The marks were disguised by my hair, so I didn’t have to explain that.
Twenty years ago, I was a direct printer, using a machine that looked like this: http://img.alibaba.com/photo/201618330/WPY_Multi_color_screen_printing_machine_Semi_automatic_.jpg. As you can see, the screen is on a hinge so you can lower it to the printing surface. I was printing t-shirts at a pretty good clip. I swung the screens around and lowered the next color briskly, with my boob between the screen and surface. NOT pleasant. Interesting bruise.
I used to be able to do back bends, flips and the like (albeit many years ago). So one day a while back, I decided to do a back bend. It took me two weeks to recover enough to tie my shoes by myself. I can’t remember what the story I made up to explain my injury was, but I bet it was lame.
EpicNonsense
I have a friend who did the whole running chainsaw on a wet hillside trick.
He and you are very lucky. He came away with a couple of stitches and a boat load of “Damn, that was stupid.” He said it felt like every doctor and nurse in the hospital had to stop by and tell him how lucky he was.
Way back in the depths of time, maybe 1985 or so, I worked in a furniture store. When we unpacked new shipments of furniture, we would throw all the cardboard and lumber packaging into a huge dumpster behind the store; occasionally climbing into the dumpster to stomp it all somewhat flat to make more room.
5 or 6 of us, one day, were unpacking a large load of couches, chairs, etc. When we finished, we decided to break for lunch-- the other guys headed to the lunch area, while I stayed behind for a minute to stomp all the cardboard and lumber down as the dumpster was pretty full.
I climbed in and took a huge jump… whereupon the wood and cardboard collapsed underneath me. WHOOOMP!
I ended up pinned, upside-down, against the inside of the dumpster with a 2X4 basically braced against my ribs and the opposite side of the dumpster holding me in place.
I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe…
I hung there for what felt like an hour (but was probably 30 seconds or so), when it occurred to me that if there was no drastic change soon, I was going to freaking DIE upside down in a dumpster!!
There ensued a frantic round of wriggling, kicking, and silent curses, and I managed to get myself upright, minus a lot of skin and with what I suspect were a couple of either seriously bruised or cracked ribs. I hurt for weeks.
But no one saw, and that’s the important part.
Well, here’s what I posted on LJ about my most recent one (Jasmine’s the dog):
waay back in my early teens, my love for D&D and all things medieval got the better of me.
I fashioned a 5 foot sturdy staff, attached a similar length of stout rope and a 6 inch length of pipe. Instant flail. Raising it and whirling it about, it produced a satisfying whirring sound. Now what?
Attacking a nearby evergreen shrub seemed appropriate. So I whirled that flail overhead, ending in a massive overhead swing, straight down on to the offending shrubbery.
The main problem, in retrospect, was that the rope was too long. My swing, using both hands straight down like an axe, unfortunately brought the business end of the flail into violent contact with the back of my head.
I awakened mere seconds later, face first in the evergreen shrub. I had an immense pain in the back of my head, and the flail was lying on the ground next to the bush.
I quickly snuck the device back into my parents garage, where I left it forevermore. I am very happy that my parents were away at work, as were my neighbors that day. Getting whacked in the back of the head is a very different, intense sort of pain.
