As has been the case on more than one occasion, I submit a blog title and complete the entry later. This is exactly what happened with this entry and, thinking back, I have no idea of where I was going with ‘take three.’
I do, however, know how I spent the day of this entry. I started off with a workout. Yes, even after the treadmill incident I have dared to workout again. In fact, since the treadmill incident, this is the third time I have worked out in the gym. Perhaps that is my ‘take three’ (it should be noted the most recent workouts have been incident free).
After the workout I quickly showered and met up with Sleepless and Progressive for a movie and lunch at a theater that serves food, beer and spirits. We were a delightful trio and we ordered three burgers, three beers (well, a pitcher and three glasses) and three cocktails. In a sense, that was our ‘take three.’
At 3:30, Oreggano and I got pedicures. I arrived a little earlier than she did and was seated in a massage chair with a lot of power. In addition, being the first and only customer, they gave me the TV remote control. Oreggano arrived to find the remote in my hand and my boobs jiggling all over the place. “What is going on here? Your boobs are going nuts and you’ve got the TV remote. Who thought it was a good idea to give that to you?” I attempted to explain the situation to her and, once she got her massage chair going, she begin to experience the same boob thing. A little while later another woman came in for a pedicure, sat down next to me, turned on her massage chair, and it was the Jello Jigglers commercial, take three.
As my pedicurist was massaging my foot she noticed the injury on the sole of my foot. “Does this hurt?” “No.” “What is it?” “Oh, nothing really, just a little piece of plate in my foot. It’s fine. It will work itself out soon. I tried to dig it out a couple days ago, but it wouldn’t budge.” She stared at me in shock. “No, really, it’s fine. I feel nothing there,” I assured her and then said to Oreggano, “Feeling nothing there may be a bad thing. I might need to get that checked out.” A few minutes later the pedicurist noticed my jacked up big toe. “Not entirely sure what happened there but I may have jammed it while crossing over a threshold.” “Of course you did,” Oreggano quipped.
It was about this time that I scratched the top of my head and noticed what felt like a scab. “Wow. I just noticed what I think is a scab. I’m not in a relationship right now, so, as my friend, you need to check this out,” I advised Oreggano. “Yep, it’s a scab alright,” she confirmed. “I would pick it but that’s kind of gross. Even grosser would be having it fall off while I’m in a meeting or something. People will think I have major dandruff.” “Good point. More important, however, is what happened?” Oreggano asked. “That’s the thing. I don’t know. I very well could have run into a tree branch or something like that. Or, I could have burned my scalp while crimping my hair. The 80s are seriously killing me.” “The 80s are killing you in the 2000s?” she asked. “Yes, in fact, they are,” I replied.
So there is another take three. Three injuries and only one known source (the plate). Plus, three activities: workout, movie, pedicure. Perhaps that is what I meant by ‘take three…’