TR Episode 12: The Great Pinky Toe Caper

 

The Great Pinky Toe Caper

[September 9, 2017]

 

At about 8 this past Friday night, just as I’m getting ready to go to bed, I stub my left pinky toe on an iron support leg for the small planter stand I use as an end table for my wooden rocking chair.  Looking down at my left foot, I see what looks like red stuff congregating around the toe I’ve just stubbed.  Sitting down in my rocking chair, I raise my foot (to give it a look) just in time to see a significant amount of red stuff start dripping-out onto the floor.  It seems, in stubbing my toe, I ripped-off about half my nail.  Surprisingly, it doesn’t seem to hurt much.  I don’t have my reading glasses on so I can’t really see what my toe looks like; but I can see a lot of red, and that tells me I definitely hurt something.  Mind you, I’m really tired.  And, no I haven’t had anything to drink as I’m quite sensitive to alcohol.

 

Anyway, as I sit there watching blood pool on the floor, I think to myself, Hmmm... maybe I should soak my toe.  Getting up from my rocking chair, I hobble to the kitchen sink, grab my white bucket off the counter, and fill it with water.  The trail of blood into the kitchen is impressive.  Thankfully, I don’t have carpeting (especially white carpeting).  My little family room and kitchen are all one room, and the flooring looks a lot like the flooring in the elementary school I went to way back in the late 60s/early 70s.  Having now a bucket with a little water in it, I hobble back to my rocking chair, where I sit for a while and soak my foot.  I don’t know if soaking my toe really does much except create a bucket full of bloody water.  Noticing this, I think to myself, Ummm... maybe I should grab a paper towel, apply a little pressure, and see if I can get the bleeding to stop.  Once again, I hobble over to the kitchen sink, grab the paper towel roll, and hobble back to my rocking chair.  By this time, the volume of blood on the floor is approaching epic proportions (for such a small wound), and I quickly begin applying pressure to my toe.  The thought crosses my mind (again, please note I’m really, really tired), Ummm... you need to get the bleeding to stop, Dave, otherwise the blood loss might create more problems for you than the stubbed toe.  And so, I begin applying significant pressure to my toe, changing-out the blood-soaked towels as necessary.

 

After about twenty minutes or so, the bleeding appears to subside.  At about this point, I notice what looks like two people wandering about out on Hope Valley Road in front of my house.  They have a laptop with them, and they’re using the light from it to guide their steps.  I think to myself, Ummm... please don’t come knock on my door.  My foot’s bleeding, and I really just want to go to bed.  I like that I have my rocking chair positioned such that, when I’m sitting in it, I can see anyone coming on the property (unless they’re coming-up out of the woods).  The laptop begins to float down my driveway toward the house (because of its forward facing screen, it really did look like it was hovering in mid-air).  Dang, I think to myself, they’re coming for me.  As the rectangular light gets closer, I see the two twenty-somethings behind it.  I tell myself, No political nonsense, please.  (I abhor politics and often feel like one of the closest things to Satanism is the two-party system we have here in the U.S.  Why can't the Democrat and Republican parties actually organize real parties, where people who care about each other can get together and just have a nice time?)

 

Anyway...

 

Through the large picture window, I see them wave at me.  I wave back, get up out of my rocking chair, grab my pepper gel (hey, you never know), and, as I hear the knock at the front door, head into the living room, where the front door is located.  Opening the door, I see two people:  A little boy (who looks like a fifth grader, but he’s probably about 19 years old) and a little girl (who looks like she's in junior high but is probably about 21 or 22).  They proceed to tell me something about the internet in the area, how AT&T did such and such, and how they can help me take advantage of the new services now available to those on my street.  The girl asks me, "Are you happy with your internet provider?"

 

"I suppose," I say, having never really given it much thought.  It’s the only internet I have so I’m just grateful to have it.  It's sort of like the air I’m breathing now, though not nearly as important.

 

"Well," she says, "how much are you paying for internet, phone, and TV?"   I told her, "I don’t have TV, and I get my internet and phone for about $35 a month."

 

A shocked look crosses her face.  I don’t know if it’s the price I pay or the fact that I don’t have TV.

 

I decide not to ask.

 

At this point, she launches into how fast the fiber-optic line is and begins to rattle off a few mathematical figures that, to be honest with you, go over my head.  Sure, while I do a little work as an engineer and am fairly technically oriented, computers and electronic stuff don’t particularly interest me (except when they don’t do what I want them to do).  A computer is a lot like a shovel to me.  If I’m playing in the dirt, I appreciate my shovel.  If I’m not playing in the dirt, who cares about a shovel?

 

"Would you all like to come in?" I ask politely

 

The girl and boy both smile and enter the door.  "Thanks," they say.  I proceed to tell them, "Ummm... please bear with me, it’s past my bedtime, and about a half hour ago I stubbed my toe and ripped-off the nail.  I think the bleeding's pretty much stopped."

 

As they enter my home, I can see their eyes darting back and forth.  My living room is not a typical living room.  It’s a library with wall to wall shelves filled with about 2,000 books (+/-).  It also has a Christmas tree at one end, complete with lights and decorations.  I keep it up all year and like to turn on the lights when I wake-up each morning.  I’m usually up at around 3, and the lights keep me company until God wakes up at around 430.

 

At this point, I usher them through the foy-yay into the family room and ask if they’d like to have a seat as I proceed to sit back down in my rocking chair.

 

“Please pardon the blood all over the floor," I say.  "As I said, I stubbed my toe a little while ago and ripped-off the nail."

 

The boy is wide-eyed; he keeps looking at me, at the blood all over the floor, and at the huge steel pull-up contraption I have in my family room right next to my rocking chair.  The girl, on the other hand, is very business-like, and proceeds to tell me more of what AT&T can do for me.  She then calls HQ on her cell phone and begins giving them some of my information in terms of the services I’m interested in.  She asks me for my cell phone number, and I tell her, "I don’t have a cell phone."

 

"You don’t have a cell phone?" she asks (scoldingly).

 

I shake my head.  Nope.  Sorry.  Should I?

 

She then proceeds to go back and forth with the HQ person again.

 

While she’s doing that, I start chatting with the boy.  I learn he recently dropped out of college, so I ask him if he thinks he might go back.

 

"No.  This is what I want to do with my life,” he says.  “Why would I go another three years just so I can do what I’m doing right now?"

 

Not a bad question to ask.  You know?... it’s amazing how many people go to college when that’s not what they really want to do or even what they need to do to be happy and live significantly.

 

I then ask him where he’s from ("Smithfield"), where he lives currently ("Burlington"), etc.  By this time, I think he’s starting to feel a little more relaxed around me.  Relax, bud... I'm NOT a serial killer.  I ask him and the girl if they’d like some bottled water.  They both nod, so I hobble into the kitchen and bring them each back a bottle of water.  The girl is still going back and forth with HQ.  Finally, she looks at me and says, “I have some good news!  We can give you internet and phone for... ummm about $90 a month.  PLUS taxes.  PLUS installation services.”

 

I smile.

 

“Well, thanks for checking to see if you could help me out.  I’m actually fine with what I currently have, and, since I pay only about $35 a month for it, I'm going to stick with my current service.”  I think by now the girl’s gotten the point as she abruptly turns and begins to head out.  Conversation over, I guess.  Don’t you at least want to know what kind of toothpaste I use?  As they walk out the front door, I say, "I’m so sorry we couldn’t do business together.  I hope you all have a nice evening."

 

After they leave, I go back into my family room and begin cleaning-up all the blood.  As I’m down on my knees, a thought crosses my mind:  I’m becoming just like the eccentric old man who pops-up in the movies occasionally.  With that thought, I chuckle, finishing cleaning the floor, crawl into bed, and laugh myself to sleep.

 

So, there you go.  Just another Friday night here in Durham.

--

Today's MRL Maxim:  The older you get the truly older you seem to the people around you.

Today's MRL Call-to-action:  This week do your absolute best to be who you are.  Seek to eliminate anything (especially in your social media posts) that hints of the theatric or any kind of disingenuousness.  Be your own unique self.  It's been said, "You are at your most attractive when you're being yourself, and you're at your least attractive when you're trying to be someone else."

--

My friends...

Go and think upon these things.  Do the work, and be revellious.

Until next time, we (and that includes you and me) are the few... the proud... the revellious.

Dave out...