My Face

I’m going to be telling this story about ten dozen times in the days and weeks ahead, so let me get it out of the way now.  It’s not like 99% of people reading this will see me in real life, but it’s a “funny” story.

This evening, I raced my niece in her backyard and won!  She’s only five, so it’s not a particularly great accomplishment.

The problem came when she stopped at the “finish line” and Uncle Augie lost his balance and came to a violent stop by planting his face into the brick wall that is the back of his sister’s house.

My glasses broke and cut a small bit next to my eye.  There’s a huge abrasion on my right cheek.  The palm of my left hand has some skin scraped off of it.

I look like friggin’ Harvey Dent right now.  Warner Bros — call me now.  I’m available for your movie promotions.

The good news is — no eye damage was done.  No concussion.  Just my bruised ego, a whole lot of embarrassment, and a messed up half a face that will likely take forever to heal.  Suddenly, I’m vain.  Work is going to be fun on Monday.  And I’m heading over to LensCrafters, of all places, for an eye exam and new glasses tomorrow.  For tonight, I guess I’ll be reading some comic books at a very close distance.

I’m going to go hide in a corner for a little while now.


 
 
 

10 Responses to “My Face”

  1. Jim
    1. June 2008 at 08:09

    Well, at least you won the race, Augie. The cost of victory is sometimes bitter. ;)

  2. Augie De Blieck Jr.
    1. June 2008 at 14:01

    I believe it was from Chris Claremont that I learned the phrase “Pyrrhic VIctory.” Now, I am living it.

  3. Matthew M
    1. June 2008 at 21:57

    Augie,

    I can empathize. I was once babysitting an ex’s 6 year old niece, she was playing on a hard-rubber swing held by a kind of elastic rope to a tree. As she was swinging, her hair scrunchy flew off. So I bent down to get it for her, just as she decided to LEAP OFF THE SWING to get it herself.

    Elastic rope + hard-rubber seat = fast, sudden bounce-back of seat, right into my eye.

    Black eye. Really swollen. I looked positively Cro-Magnon, and stayed that way for a LONG time.

    The worst was not having a great story to go with the black eye. No bar fights, no UFC tryouts, no alpha-male, y-chromosome, testosterone-charged heroic epic to go with it. Nope, a 6 year old jumped off her swingset.

    Wowie…

    Enjoy your storytelling for the next week =)

  4. EzekielRawlins
    2. June 2008 at 06:46

    What’s the first rule about Fight Club…?

  5. Trip Bakun
    2. June 2008 at 12:06

    Ouch – that’s got to be painful! Hopefully you don’t sleep with the Two-Face side touching the pillow.

    Also, this post requires a photo. Especially considering you spent months tellings us all about the research that went into the purchase of that newfangled camera that you ended up getting!

  6. Phil Foxx
    2. June 2008 at 12:15

    Sorry to hear about your face. I do believe, though, that this morning at work, the situation did require a variation of something that Berke Breathed so gloriously gave us back in the 1980′s:

    The Big Lie.

    (Hey, it’s always been more useful than “The Big Casualness” or “The Big Spat”.)

  7. Augie De Blieck Jr.
    2. June 2008 at 23:03

    Yeah, we’ll get that picture up here eventually. For the easily squeamish, I’ll be sure just to provide a link to the image. OK, it’s not THAT bad, but it freaks me out. I should do it tonight while I still have this lovely black eye, but I’m sure it’ll still be there tomorrow night. . .

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