Skip to main content

I've Fallen And I Can't Get Up


It was about three days into Bob's vacation. He'd travelled to warmer climes to escape the wintry weather back home. From what he'd seen on social media he'd picked the right time. Snow, sleet and freezing raining had all put in an appearance in his absence.

Bob felt lucky. Even though he had some mobility issues and walked with a cane, he managed to make the daily trek past the resort's swimming pools to his bamboo-umbrellaed beach chair near the ocean's edge where he enjoyed the sites and sounds of the beach.

So, in the absence of niveous nervousness Bob relaxed away the hours in the tropical sun. But on this day Bob had stayed all morning at the beach and eventually had to go pee. Instead of walking all the way back to the condo Bob thought he'd just dip quickly in the ocean, subtly relieve himself and then return to his spot among the dancing dune buggies and bikini-clad babes. Particularly the latter and for that he was grateful for his sunglasses.

Anyway, he said to his wife that he'd accompany her into the water and leaning on her and without his cane he shakily walked across the beach into the ocean.

Well, it took only minutes for a wave to knock Bob off his feet not unlike a bowling pin. He struggled to stand but wave after wave crashed against him and he just couldn't get his legs under himself to stand as they turned to rubber. Like a sea turtle Bob grovelled in the surf until a passerby helped his wife lift him to is feet and pretty much dragged him back to the dry sand.

Did his life flash before his eyes? No, all he could think of was that infernal line from that damn commercial "I've fallen and I can't get up". He used to laugh at that. But not today.

Worst of all he still had to go pee.

The prompt from the folks at Two Word Tuesday on the Our Write Side site this week is niveous/wintry. This tale may or may not be true. The names have been changed to protect the incontinent.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

My Back Pages - October

Well, folks, I read seven (count 'em) seven books in October. One I didn't finish but even at that I hit the magic number 50 I estimated for myself by the end of the year. The six books I successfully waded through were, firstly, What Happened, Hillary Clinton's book on her bid for the Presidency. I''m a bit of a political junkie so I get off on this stuff but still it kinda struck me as one long whine over losing.
Next up was the excellent Canyon of Dreams: The Magic and Music of Laurel Canyon. Laurel Canyon was the fabled area outside of Los Angeles where many musicians and artists lived. Known as a 60s enclave, the book takes a look at just who lived there over the last 80 years. A fascinating read.
Next up was Lightfoot, a biography of Canadian folk singer Gordon Lightfoot. He may have been responsible for some iconic folk songs but he was also quite the womanizer and boozer. Enough said.
Then I read Dan Brown's new tome Origin, the fifth in the Robert Lan…

Tales From The Supermarket

Bob and Brenda worked in the supermarket. They weren't check-out clerks. And they weren't stock-boys. Brenda sure wasn't. And they weren't employees who worked in the fish section or the deli. No. They were on the shelves.

They hadn't been on the shelves very long but in that short time they'd developed a considerably close friendship.

The chatted all day when the store was busy and at night when the store was closed. They talked about everything. The talked about what raw products they came from. The talked about their manufacturing processes. And they talked about the long routes in semi-trailers that brought them to this store.

Oddly enough the one thing they never made clear to one another was just what product each of them was.

One day when Brenda was commenting on their friendship she told Bob she was grateful for their amity. "Are you Tea?" said Bob, pekoe-ing her way. "I thought I was Tea". You're coffee!"

This week's Tw…