Way more fun than the truth

I’m always getting unexplained bruises and scratches.  It’s hard to avoid the edge of the coffee table when it’s made of glass and you’re legally blind–for which the lesson is probably something like, don’t buy a glass coffee table if you’re legally blind, but that’s another post.  I don’t even remember how I get these things, but they show up regularly on my legs, arms, neck, face, all over.  People exclaim over them:  “Oh, no!  How did you get that bruise?”  And when I tell them I don’t know, they totally look at me like they think I’m being abused.  Which I’m not, but that’s kind of a lengthy explanation to give to a random person who’s just asking about that bruise under my ear that I think I might have gotten when I tripped over the bathmat that got bunched up and I fell into the towel rack, but I’m really not sure and it might have been from when I was trying to get a can off the top shelf in the kitchen and I lost my balance and smacked myself with the cabinet door.

So I think I’m just going to have fun with it.  “Oh, that one?  This kid I was babysitting tried a karate chop on me, but he stopped when I drop-kicked him across the room.”  Or, “that scratch?  I was giving a performance art exhibition and one of the pulleys snapped, and the yak horn went right through my scuba suit!”  Or, “It’s that guy from the pretzel kiosk. Can you believe it?  I swore it would be the last time.” Just to see how people react.  Suggestions are welcome, as long as you don’t mind if I end up using them on you!

5 thoughts on “Way more fun than the truth

  1. Despite having very good vision, I get a lot of unexplained bruises, too. Because I am a klutz. One of my favorite responses is to provide a long-winded, dull explanation that doesn’t end… and see how long it takes before other person gets bored and wanders off/gives up. (If you can keep a straight face, people are willing to sit through *incredibly* long explanations.) Like: “Oh, that bruise on my knee? Well you see, five days ago I was in my office at work. And I got a little tickle in the back of my throat. You know, like allergies, but it’s not. I don’t think there are enough leaves down for my allergies to get really bad yet, but I guess it’s almost that season. Better than winter, though. But anyway, my throat has started getting a little itchy almost, and I’ve had a lot of phone calls to make this past week, so I called up to one of my coworkers to see if she had a cough drop. I guess I could have walked up the stairs to see her instead, but… … …”

    And the next thing you know, it’s like five minutes later and the person’s eyes have glazed over and they just remembered they have to go take care of something … And the person will never ask you ever again. Done.

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  2. And to think I was with you when we picked out the glass table. Maybe you should get one of those giant ottoman-type square thingies that sits in front of your sofa and chairs. It’s fine IF you don’t ever care about eating or drinking in the living room. Books and feet=great; drinks and food=sad. Hey, let’s tape sponges on the corners!!! Practical and so aesthetically pleasing, too. That’s one of the very few advantages of having low vision. You may think the taped sponges are stylish looking.

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