So this weekend I headed up to Newport, Rhode Island with a friend of mine to hang around and see some friends and drink some beers and eat some sea stuff and do some this and thatness. Yesterday we headed out to some park by the water with this lighthouse to eat some food and drink or whatever. Twas a coolio spot. Roscoe liked walking on the rocks.
Looks like a sea dog, right?! There were lots of people walking around hanging out on the rocks.
Pink pail girl.
Woody Allen dude.
Anyway, we had some chicken leftovers and I saw some seagulls across the way so I decided to feed them the rest of the chicken.
I threw lots of pieces on the rocks in front of me but the gulls didn't notice. One stopped by but didn't see the chicken. I was like, Dude! There's like 20 pieces of chicken all over the place there! Open your gully eyes! But he didn't see em and flew away. Dope.
I even threw one up to that guy. (You can see it there on the rock). But he didn't notice either. WTF with these dumb blind gulls!
So I got all frustrated and walked down the rocks to pick up all the chicken pieces and try again. If you walked on seashore rocks before you might remember that some parts are dry...
Some parts aren't so dry and super slippery instead. I didn't remember that part and walked down willy nilly like all the rocks were dry...
La dee da dee da! Picking up me chicken! La dee da!! Then all of a sudden, BIG SLIP! WHOA! I'M TOTALLY SIDEWAYS IN THE AIR! THEN SMASH! I landed head first on the rocks! Like the first part of me that hit the rock was the side of my head! No arm fall breaker or anything! My head broke my fall!
It was sort of interesting because I guess it's been so long since I smashed my head on something that hard it brought back childhood flashbacks for me. Like a little slide show of all the times I've smashed my head to the point of near or total unconsciousness. Sort of like when you smell a smell from back in the day and it all comes back to you. But this wasn't a smell memory....it was a smashy smash memory. It was like, Hey Slipsteen! Feels just like that time you slipped while running through the garage after playing with hose and landed on your head on the concrete? Or hey, Dorky! Remember when you got hit in the head with an aluminum bat by stepping into a full swing? You were out for like 20 seconds! (that's when I think I lost math). There's just something about that bell ringing solid thud that was particularly childhoodly.
Anyway, a friend of mine held Roscoe back from coming to the rescue (not sure what he thought he was gonna do) and I slowly got to my feet. Some guy yelled out, 'Are you ok?' I sort of was and sort of wasn't. I took one step to head back to dry ground forgetting again that the rocks were slippery. I went down again! This time I landed ok but the rocks were sooo slippery I slipped and slid and skidded picking up speed! I was heading down toward the actual ocean! It was like sliding down a gross algae covered rocky wet banana.
Sort of like this waterslide type dealio:
To keep myself from sliding into the drink I literally scratched and clawed to slow my slide. (Can you say, dork?) Desperately reaching for little divots in the rocks to hold on to. Finally I caught one just before the point of no return. At this point, the rock people were all standing around were staring at me. I wanted to stand up and walk back up the rocks to show that I was ok. And not a dork. And a real man. But there was no standing up this time. The lesson sunk in. I wasn't "getting to my feet" again. I literally crawled slowly up the wet rocks. Reaching for cracks and little holes. It took a while and I went slowly to be safe.
When I finally was in the dry zone, I felt like I just went on a surprise party owie adventure. And I emerged with a big lump on the side of my head that was scraped and bleeding. Some guy across the way yelled, 'Need some ice?' I guess my head thump sort of echoed over the rocks and he was a nice guy. But I did the whole, 'No! I'm fine!' (That thing where you have to reassure yourself and others that your fine even though you haven't even checked the gauges.) Me saying, 'No I'm fine!' sounded like the words were coming out in slo-mo.
The whole side of my body was covered in scrapes and algae seaweed glop and my head was ringing like a bell. But I was ok. Roscoe looked at me like, 'Fun?' I was like, 'No. Not fun.' Yeah I have sort of an welty bruise-scrape upside my head but other than that I know what the year is and what my middle name is so I think I'm good to go. Maybe it was one of the rare moments where having a big helmet head actually came in handy. (And I look like I've been in a fight which is kind of cool looking.)
But again I had to re-learn a lesson the hard way (Lesson #42: Some rocks by the water are slippery.)... and I probably re-forgot whatever was left of my math skills in the process.