That Time I had A Pure, Unobstructed, 100 mph, 3-Foot Face Plant.

“Is JerkGuy abusing you?”

Probably the last question I wanted to field from my mother. I can see why she might have wanted to know

It’s widely know than I’m not particular graceful. I’m clumsy, even. But bruises around my face are a little more difficult to explain. Actually, let me say that it is simple, but I don’t exactly want to discuss the merits of erotic asphyxiation with my mother. I might also hazard a guess that she’s not interested to hear about her own daughter’s fringe sexual preferences (Mother, I know you subscribe to this blog…. PLEASE STOP).

I woke up to a panicked JerkGuy, shaking me from the shoulders and yelling my name.

“Vicki?!”

“What?” I replied, groggily and nonchalantly. Thinking ‘what time is it, and can I have a sandwich?”

“VICKI?!” His voice more urgent. I’m getting confused. What is the issue? Have I overstayed my welcome? I’ve only known this guy a couple weeks. Perhaps it wasn’t kosher to take a nap here.

“Whaaaaat?” I respond, I’m a little more confused, and my voice takes on a higher pitch to reflect this.

“VICKI ARE YOU FUCKING OKAY?”

“WHAAAAAAT?” My voice is a squeak barely escaping my larynx. Man, this dude is fucking chapped. Duly noted, man. Naps are like, second month territory. Got it.

“Are. You. Fucking. OKAY?”

Ok, Now I’m legitimately concerned- what just happened?

 

Luckily, I know someone who was there and can tell me, and this is what he has to say:

“Well, I suppose this is the part where I have to shed some light on the missing scene.

First off we have to back up a little…This was not the first time we had engaged in…..Whats a mom friendly term? (Vicki’s mom, if you haven’t turned away by now you have no one to blame but yourself) Playful air restriction. Yes. That.

Anyway, no ones first rodeo, so there we are in a reverse playful air restriction session, and I let go of Vicki’s throat.  Now, usually at this point, when I let go- she falls, and puts her hands out or pushes back or twists or something.

But this time? No.

Just a pure, unobstructed, 100 mph, 3 foot face plant.

So I lean forward so I can see her face make sure she’s alright, and instead of the usual air gasping face,  it’s an ‘eyeballs-rolling-into-the-back-of-her-fucking-head’ face.

And literally the second, the VERY second I saw her eyes do that, she started to tense up reeeal bad.

Like…. bitch is gonna have a seizure bad.

So as I roll her over to brace her head for said seizure and myself for what i’m expecting to be a very awkward 911 call:

“Hello, 911”

“Yes, I just choked a girl and I think she’s gonna have a seizure or die or something!!!”

“Sir did you say YOU choked her?”

“Yes. But she totally asked for it”

Total accident. Didn’t mean to do it”, said EVERY KILLER EVER!

But before I made that call, she started to come to, still stiff, but seizure free. So obviously I start yelling at her to see if she’s ok. I mean that makes total sense right? All the yelling?

So that pretty much brings us full circle…”

This all explains the INSANE Charlie Horses I had in my calves. Pretty sure when I came to, and was made aware of the situation, I sadly whined, saying “my legs hurt” in a defeated, mousy little voice.

I went home (and I was staying with my mother at the time), with cramped calves and a bruise forming on the bridge of my nose from the point of impact between my face and the edge of a mattress. My mother even asked about that bruise, and I’m sure I came up with some horrible lie to spare her. (Mom, if you’re still reading, can this please never be brought up over dinner… Or Ever?)

I’m sure there’s a lesson to be learned, but this happened a year ago, and I don’t think I’m any wiser, so I’m going to just file this one under “hilarious”.