I keep on falling


I fell. At work.

I’m not sure of the legal implications of sharing this, so just in case…

I allegedly fell at work.

Well, not technically at work. Perhaps the incident took place in the garage. Maybe.

Earlier that morning, I woke up to my normal routine. I brewed coffee, took a shower, walked the dog. I jumped in my car and drove to a place of business that may or may not be mine. I parked the car in the top-level of the garage and proceeded to take the stairs, per my new exercise regiment that now includes not using the elevator for less that four floors. Only, when I turned the corner, my foot escaped my control and down went the ship.

To be more specific, there could have been a small puddle at the base of the stairs that, perhaps, contributed to my smooth descent into a perfect split.

As my ass slowly began to absorb the dirty rain water, I noticed that I had not spilled a single drippity-drop of my super hot Starbucks coffee. In the midst of my fall, I managed to hold on to the cup with the perfect pressure and balance. Apparently, my nightly six-minute Wii Fit routine was actually working.

I would have gotten up myself, if it wasn’t that the door that leads in from the second level abruptly opened and hydroplaned me across the floor.

Luckily, the woman who caused the experiment in physics helped me get on my feet. She was also nice enough to walk behind me so the morning rush would not see my moist rear. She was especially kind enough to tell the security guard what had just happened, setting off the perfect storm of paperwork and official dramatizations of the fall.

Only, during my affidavit signing and swearing that it was indeed the floor that wet my pants, the rumor mill throughout the company got a little out of control. While some thought I had fallen down the stairs, others thought I had been hit in the head with the door, while I was lying unconscious in a puddle of my urine. One co-worker was nice enough to leave Excedrin on my desk for the headache I most likely had.

After all was said and done the final report read: Employee fell, wet her pants and undergarments, chipped her toenail polish on her left foot.

What the report failed to note was the massive bruise on my ego and the mental anguish over catching a rare yeast infection from stagnant water.

Allegedly, of course.

Published by Mari

I was born with a widow's peak and a thick accent. I majored in English as a second language. I work (marianeladearmas.com) and travel (alittlecubangoesalongway.com) and sometimes do both.

5 thoughts on “I keep on falling

  1. About a month ago I fell leaving a client meeting at a swanky SoBe hotel. The heel of my shoe had worn down to the metal and I slipped into a split as well. Thankfully there was no puddle of dirty water in the lobby of this hotel.

    I was mortified. The entire bustling lobby full of beautiful people stopped at stared at me. “Wow. Look at the fat lady on the floor” I imagined them saying. ‘I didn’t know fat girls could do a split”. Not one, but FOUR valets came over to help me up. I insisted on standing up unassisted afraid to imagine the other thoughts from the beautiful ones “Man it took FOUR guys to get her off the floor”

    I slinked into my car and drove off to bury my embarassment in a Starbucks. On the drive my boss turned to me and said “I wouldn’t have gotten up. I would have screamed lawsuit”. Damn!

  2. Remember Mirta falling down the staircase of the Dawn during the Inaugural? All you and I could do was stand there and laugh. Poor Mirta.

    1. I wasn’t there, but I remember you guys telling me about it and not being able to get the words out. It still makes me want to laugh uncontrollably just thinking about it.

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