sticky fingers

Over the course of my lifetime, I’ve had all sorts of extremely obnoxious misadventures.    One stands out particularly for how stupid it was.    I tend to be somewhat absent minded unfortunately.    One afternoon, a few years ago, while still living in Wyoming, Pennsylvania,  I remembered having left something outside in my car.   I can’t remember what it was but knowing me it was most probably my eyeglasses.   I’ve always been quite seriously prone toward leaving my glasses in my car so for me it was quite a typical day in that sense.    Like any other time I opened my car door any got the glasses out of the car, fully expecting to go back into the house without any real trouble.    That, however, was simply not to be.    During that time frame I was constantly doing little stupid things that inflicted intense pain upon my fingertips.    This time, upon my  having let my guard down for only a very short time, the door of my car was blown close by a sudden gust of wind. It closed upon the fingers of my left hand.   I couldn’t wriggle them out, nor could I reach far enough with my right hand so that I could open the door.     Conveniently somewhere over the course of only the first few minutes after my having been subjected to this complete stupidity a teenaged boy walked down the street dribbling a basketball.    I asked him for help.   He opened the door and I took my sore fingers out.    I felt quite stupid, of course, and wasn’t the least bit sure I could have put up with that trouble for any significant length of time.



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