The Fallout

Ever have those days where you wake up in the wrong bed? You know, the kind where after a long weekend of friendly mishaps, it's Monday and a cascade of miniature melodramas just keep streaming your way? That was the life of BP yesterday and this past weekend. What?! You mean the cliche is "waking up on the wrong side of the bed"? Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle...

Since my gym membership expired on Sunday, I had to find another way to burn off all the calories I consume in a normal day, so I decided on using a free public place. While listening to GoAskAlice's problems in New York and San Francisco, I meandered about Margaret T. Hance Park (built over I-10) near downtown Phoenix. In between her story about the underage pharmaceutical rep and the evil doctor, I happen across a small traffic violation in the middle of the sidewalk.

I closely study the curiosity. Lying on the ground was a small, arrow head shaped yellow nub. I cautiously step on it, it's partly squishy from the atomic heat radiating skyward from the sidewalk, and kick it down the way. It bounces. Realizing what it is, I immediately unleash a howel of laughter into the evening air.

"Oh, my god, GoAskAlice, you would not believe what I just stepped on!"

"Huh? Are you listening to me, BP?"

"Of course I am, but my foot isn't. It's recoiling in fear, honey child. I just stepped on a butt plug here in the middle of the park, in open air on the sidewalk. I mean, I thought I was having a bad day, but obviously not as bad as this poor person who apparantly lost their constrictive powers while they were walking home or whatever. haha"

"Oh, my god! That's so gross! Wait... how do you know it's a butt plug?"

"Oh, I just do. I've seen them when I was in Montreal."

"Mmmmm-hmmmm. Riiiiiiiiight."

"For real, puddin' cup. That is pretty gross. Maybe I should take it back to the hospital and wash it for 15 seconds, following OSHA guidelines, put some alcohol rub on it, then put it up for bidding on e-bay in one of those 'mystery bags'."

As I continue to chuckle over the small, puckered-orifice sized road cone, I remember how ridiculous bad days are. Thinking about all the arguments with my friends over the weekend, being asked to move out by my roommates, not having my medical education speech ready, getting rejected for a new position, and being temporarily broke - none of those could have been worse than having such a wonderful conversation piece slip out of my rosey cheeks in public. Compared to that, my struggles are rather modest. Using this little bit of chocolate humor to put me in a good mood, I move on and develop new plans with GoAskAlice for New York.