After G.I. Joe decided to take him down, his decline was swift. By Tuesday, he was on the phone telling a stranger to "Choke on [his] . . . !"

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon when I became an enemy of the state.  I was doing laundry, as you do, and was carrying a load of towels up three flights of stairs when suddenly the landing turned all "GO JOE!"  As I crushed Snake Eyes Eyes with my left foot and tumbled head first into a hamper of clean towels, I thought to myself, "If you're going to fall head first into something, you could do a lot worse than towels fresh from the dryer."  My head was safe, but with his dying breath, that wee plastic Snake Eyes rolled over and took my ankle with him.  I scream into clean laundry as my ankle pivots in ways God never intended. 

Knowing that I have to teach on Tuesday, on Monday I contact the people with the little carts and ask for a lift to class.  "No problem," a helpful person tells me.  "That's what we're here for," she says.  She takes down some information and assures me we're all set.  Someone will be at my place shortly before 7:00 a.m. to pick me up and take me class.  Fast forward to Tuesday morning.

SEK:  (looking at his watch)  I'm ten minutes early.  Nothing can possibly go wrong.  (ten minutes pass)  Probably just running a little late.  (five more minutes pass)  Maybe I should call to check up.

PERSON WHO ANSWERS THE PHONE:  What?

SEK:  I'm calling about a ride to campus.  Someone was supposed to pick me up so I could teach.  (shuffling sounds can be heard)

DIFFERENT PERSON:  Can I help you with something?

SEK:  I'm calling about a ride to campus.  Someone was supposed to pick me up so I could teach.

DIFFERENT PERSON:  Right.  We can't do that.

SEK:  You can't do that? 

DIFFERENT PERSON:  Right.  We need a doctor's note and you didn't provide one.

SEK:  I'm seeing the doctor tomorrow.  I can bring a note in afterwards.

DIFFERENT PERSON:  Right.  That's not how it works here. 

SEK:  So how am I supposed to get to class?

DIFFERENT PERSON:  You live on campus.  Why not just walk?

SEK:  (rage)  If I could walk, I wouldn't have requested your services.

DIFFERENT PERSON:  Right.  We can't do that for you.  (the shuffling sounds associated with hanging up a phone can be heard)

SEK:  (Rage)  Better don't hang up on me.  (more shuffling)  How am I supposed to teach today if I can't get to class?

DIFFERENT PERSON:  Like I already said, you live on campus.  Just walk.

SEK:  (RAGE)  And like I already said, if I could fucking walk, I wouldn't have requested your fucking services.

DIFFERENT PERSON:  There's really no need to say "fuck," sir.

SEK:  CHOKE ON MY FUCK, ASSHOLE!

The upside is that I solved one of life's little mysteries: every quarter I teach the Warren Ellis piece linked there, and every quarter I'm rebaffled by that expression. 

I'm baffled no more. 

But you know what the best part is?  Guess what I see as I slowly limp my way to class?  A group of guys in a fraternity using one of those carts to haul around one of their gigantic Greek letters. 

Comments

[SEK]

L'esprit de escalier, obviously, because I'm from the South and polite. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to RICE my ankle.

[tomemos]

The spirit of the staircase, huh? Interesting choice of words in this situation.

[SEK]

Gods damn it, I'm supposed to be an expert in this sorta thing. So, as my kids say, "FML." Only not really. Still, I should've made some hay out of that, and hang my very tired, Spring-Quartered head in shame.

[arthegall]

A group of guys in a fraternity using one of those carts to haul around one of their gigantic Greek letters.

But which letter, Scott?

[Ahistoricality]

I'm pretty sure that's not what Ellis meant, either, but yikes. You should point out to the cart-people (which sounds more like a category of homelessness than a social service) that they need to train their people to ask the right questions before making appointments, and then they'd have fewer people yelling obscenities at them.....

[arthegall]

I still want to know what letter it was, but can I hazard a guess and say: it probably wasn't a mu or an eta? (And probably not upsilon or omicron or iota either.)

[Adam Roberts]

I'm starting to suspect that Scott has a whole other blog, of which I am unaware, where he chronicles all the nice and fortuitous things that happen in his life, and reserves this one for all the rest ...

I mean, like, dude! As we say in England.

[SEK]

But which letter, Scott?

I couldn't tell. It was lying flat on the top of the cart and I'm not that tall.

You should point out to the cart-people (which sounds more like a category of homelessness than a social service) that they need to train their people to ask the right questions before making appointments, and then they'd have fewer people yelling obscenities at them.

Believe you me, I lodged a complaint . . . and can't wait to pop wheelies and make donuts when they give me a cart tomorrow. The high life, baby!

I'm starting to suspect that Scott has a whole other blog, of which I am unaware, where he chronicles all the nice and fortuitous things that happen in his life, and reserves this one for all the rest[.]

If only. It's been a pretty shitty week all around, honestly. More on that later, when I can find a funny angle on it.

[Sisyphus]

Well, as long as you get to make art from your pain, you're ok. Get well soon! Don't ask me about repeat injuries, for I only have bad news for ya!

[Rich Puchalsky]

Isn't that like the ultimate geek injury? Tripping over a G.I. Joe action figure? Although I guess that since you were carrying laundry up three flights of stairs, it wasn't your action figure.