So, I pulled off to one of our stores, and spent about ten minutes trying to convince them to let me get the hose out of the storage room to attach to the faucet so I could do this. It took me another 20 minutes or so to get the hose untangled, and to get the pinhole poked parts of the hose shooting in a direction other than on ME. After all the struggle, I get a dribble from the hose at full power that is not that far different from the constant drip in my bathroom sink at home. After about 30 minutes of that, I gave up and decided to try to make it home, a mile at a time if necessary, and park the car before I got so frustrated to decide to drive it over a bridge. I drove about a mile, and the gauge spiked to the top, so I pulled off into a bike shop parking lot to let the fan run and let the engine cool.
While I was waiting for the cooling process to work it’s magic, I decided I would take some pictures and mess around with the new tripod I had purchased about 30 minutes earlier. It was a heavy duty mini tripod, sturdy enough to hold my camera, but small enough to come in one of those damn blisterpacks that you can only open with a knife or a pair of scissors.
Any of you reading this right now that are even vaguely familiar with me know that handing me a knife is a bad idea. I’m prone to accidents. Not just with knives.. or scissors.. or other sharp implements. My boss knows I’m coming down the hall because he can hear me trip once or twice before I get there. His office is only about 20 yards away.
So anyway, I pull out this handy little folding knife that I keep in my purse. I stabbed the package along the side and slid the knife ever so gently down the package. I was giddy with excitement because the knife was so sharp that it slid through that crappy plastic like butter. Unfortunately, it slid through the crappy plastic like butter, and ended up on my leg. I cut open my favorite jeans, and cut open my right leg.