I just opened my car door on my kneecap. As I was startled, I started to shut the door, but it got wedged behind my kneecap. I fell to the ground in blinding pain. And went into hysterics, rolling around the front yard, laughing and holding my knee.
The mailman walked past and yelled, “She’s down! Down for the count!”
Why he didn’t offer to help me up, I don’t know.
UPDATE: The range of motion in my left leg is greatly diminished. I still find this amusing.
I thought feministis didn’t help from any man, especially a mailman. Or is that mailperson? Either way, the word “mail” is clearly another example of the fascist influence of the patriarchy on our language.
Dude. Last year I had this badass mailwoman who delivered the mail everyday yelling metal lyrics from her truck. She was awesome.
Shit—hope you feel better soon.
Not a real injury — just completely embarassing.
My dad is a Letter Carrier (how is THAT for PC?). I don’t think he would help either… but he would spread the news of your misfortune along his route. Would you believe that some people have told him to just walk in and put the mail on the table? If they are elderly, he does it.
Every Christmas he ends up with like a dozen fruitcakes… something wrong about that.
I got my foot wedged under a door two weeks ago. Excruciating, both for my foot and my dignity.
Ice the shit out of that knee. You’ll thank me for this later, trust me.