Oh they do. Thanks to a combination of my dog pulling me like a Juneau Sled Dog and a three inch raise in the sidewalk, I tripped and slid a few feet until I let go of her leash. The end result was/still is horrific. I’ve been hibernating out of shame since Sunday. Icing, soaking, cleaning, stinging and scabbing. I look like a pound of ground beef. Some of it looks like it prior to being cooked and other parts look completely cooked. It’s not appetizing.
Yesterday, I showered, dressed up, did a little strategic coverup and headed to the CVS. As I write this I realize just how many times I’m in that CVS. Well I turned more heads than a naked traffic cop on Fifth Avenue. Looks of horror. Children clinging to their mother’s hip. Wincing. And that was just aisle four! While in line to pick up a prescription, a couple of people ahead of me opted out just to escape the sideshow. The cashier never moved more quickly.
Now in the past four or five years, this is my third black eye and not even the worst. Draw your own conclusions on the cause because no one ever believes the real story behind a black eye. There was an I Love Lucy episode that centered on this. Ethel’s response was “oh come now, you can do better than that” when Lucy told her that Ricky tossed a book to her and she missed the catch (or caught it with her face).
Complicating matters, we’re co-hosting a party Saturday and expecting close to a hundred people. That translates into one hundred explanations, unless I do some smart costuming. I’d wear sun glasses but it’s supposed to be cloudy. I could show support for the Palestinians and drape a keffiyeh to cover most of the crap. No matter what, it’s gonna be a tough sell. The hardest part is it’s my face, which is already aging faster than cheddar cheese. Throw in baldness with a turkey neck and why even bother?
The party is a barbecue. I could man the grill so nobody sees my face, but the heat would be a mother and I don’t think anyone’s gonna accept food from a compromised cook. I could pin an index card to my shirt that explains the entire debacle. Or I guess I could hand out a card with a link to this blog entry. Could boost viewer volume too. My publisher would love that. They’re saying I gotta get out there and be recognized.
Well not today.