My Left Hand
I’ve been extremely busy this week with jobs and adventures and straight thuggin’ so I was unable to do what I had planned to do for today. However, I have a story for you. I hope you enjoy.
My left hand is useless. I mean, my right hand is barely good for anything, and it’s the dominant one. So there’s really no use for that left paw.
Just ask Daniel Woods. I once grabbed his laptop to move it maybe 10 inches. I thought I could trust Lefty with this one. I was wrong. It fell and the screen shattered.
Lefty cost me a nice chunk of change that day.
These days, I have a constant fear of dropping things with Lefty. He certainly hasn’t done much to build my confidence in him. Whenever possible, Righty handles my gripping situations, and Lefty is just there for moral support.
Then came the day that I was in the bathroom, and somebody had left the toilet seat up. I had gone in simply to wash my hands, and was distracted by a text message. And that’s when….it happened.
Somehow, Lefty had gotten a hold of my phone. I suppose he was just trying to prove that he was actually capable of accomplishing something. However, right after reading the text, I raised my eyes to the mirror in front of me, and suddenly felt the slip.
Sheer panic took over.
The next 2 seconds moved in extreme slow motion. There was a lot of swinging and grasping, trying to catch the phone before disaster happened. My face was stuck in the most perfect expression. My mouth was forming the word OH and my eyebrows were trying to vacation on the north end of my forehead. Everything was straight out of a movie.
Except for the ending.
As the slow motion fall continued, something very unique happened: I punched myself in the crotch.
Now, this wasn’t like I was reaching out and just ended up open-palm slapping myself. No, at some point in the confusion, Righty took it upon himself to teach me a lesson about trusting Lefty. He balled up in a fist. An ACTUAL fist. There’s no way I was purposefully trying to catch a phone with a fist. No, Righty was ANGRY. And he wanted me to know it.
So I punched myself. Hard.
Needless to say, I dropped faster than my phone. As I lay there on the ground, it suddenly dawned on me that not ONCE during the entire fall did I realize that I was nowhere near the open toilet. There was literally no chance of my phone landing in the porcelain pool unless it bounced. Honestly, maybe I NEED a phone that is made out of rubber.
My phone was resting harmlessly a few inches away from where I had embraced the fetal position. I swear is was laughing at me.
The lesson here is to plan well and not panic, kids. Because this is what happens.