Pyper
Lurking
- Joined
- Sep 19, 2000
- Posts
- 12,211
I just recently discovered this. The events leading up to my discovery started with my roommate Ana and her boyfriend Humberto inviting me to go skiing with them in the Sierra Nevadas. This sounded like a great idea. Mind you, it only sounded great because I have never been skiing before in my life and did not realize it is the hardest sport in the WORLD!
After what seemed like several hours of piling on various layers of clothing, ski suits, and equipment, we were ready to whiz down the slopes like pros. Or, Humberto and Ana were, anyway. I was ready to become an out-of-control ski slope menace, because, you see, I’m GREAT at skiing. I just can’t stop.
I went zooming down the hill like some kind of terrible, badly-dressed juggernaut, other skiiers shouting directions at me in a multitude of foreign languages. Finally, I managed to brake to a stop without killing myself or anyone else, but I found myself on the edge of a VERY steep, VERY scary slope meant only for professionals. Humberto was about a hundred feet away, and kept telling me to push my body forward and basically ski sideways across the slope.
But it was amazing. Every time I tried to push my body forwards, I would slide BACKWARDS! It was totally against the rules of physics. I think there was something wrong with my skis. Eventually Humberto (who is a very patient guy) came to fetch me, and this is where the disaster began.
As I reached for his little ski pole thing that he held out to me, I lost my equilibrium (not that I ever had any in the first place), and went sliding down the hill. In the process, my skis, being the gigantic unwieldy things that they are, cause my left leg to twist in a totally unnatural position that wrenched my hip practically out of its socket. It hurt. A lot.
I writhed in agony for a while until they sent a snow jet ski thing to fetch me. Humberto and Ana promised to meet me at the bottom, and I was rushed off on the jet ski that actually had a siren. How embarassing. However, that was where the rushing stopped.
If you are ever in Spain, take my advice: Don’t get hurt. You will regret it. They took me to a little first aid station, where they asked me questions about how I got hurt, and then left me in a wheel chair. There were about ten Red Cross people just standing around chatting, but not a single one appeared inclined to see me. Finally, one asked me if I could move my leg or walk, which I couldn’t. Then I was ignored some more. Eventually they decided I was injured enough to go down the mountain, either that, or they just got tired of me sitting around crowding up the place.
I ended up plopped in the emergency room in the ski village, and was told to fill out more forms. Around me were about a hundred other people, all waiting to be seen, most of who did not speak Spanish and kept asking questions of the secretary (who only spoke Spanish) about how to fill out the forms. At this point, I decided to make a break for it. I could sort of walk if I leaned heavily on my skis, so I snuck out trying to look as healthy as possible. Thus, I escaped the clutches of socialized medicine.
Back home, after the several mandatory after-ski drinks at the bar with Humberto and Ana, I decided to examine myself for any bruising or swelling. However, this presented a problem. Mostly, the back part of my hip was where it really hurt, and I couldn’t get a good look back there just by twisting around (not to mention, twisting hurt too). So, I carefull stood up on the bidet (yes, we have a bidet) in front of the bathroom mirror with a little handheld mirror, and did the double mirror trick to get a good look at my hip.
At this point, I noticed I have a nice ass. I’d never given my ass much thought before. I’d never gotten a good look at it, it being behind me all the time, it was sort of like it wasn’t there. Of course, my ass was useful for sitting and such, but beyond utilarian purposes, it had been mostly ignored. Now, I realized, that my ass is actually rather nice looking, much better than most asses I have seen in the movies.
Luckily, my ass and leg seem to be recovering, although I still limp along like some kind of zombie, and my leg won’t move from side to side. Epilogue: Humberto and Ana want me to come skiing again on Saturday!
After what seemed like several hours of piling on various layers of clothing, ski suits, and equipment, we were ready to whiz down the slopes like pros. Or, Humberto and Ana were, anyway. I was ready to become an out-of-control ski slope menace, because, you see, I’m GREAT at skiing. I just can’t stop.
I went zooming down the hill like some kind of terrible, badly-dressed juggernaut, other skiiers shouting directions at me in a multitude of foreign languages. Finally, I managed to brake to a stop without killing myself or anyone else, but I found myself on the edge of a VERY steep, VERY scary slope meant only for professionals. Humberto was about a hundred feet away, and kept telling me to push my body forward and basically ski sideways across the slope.
But it was amazing. Every time I tried to push my body forwards, I would slide BACKWARDS! It was totally against the rules of physics. I think there was something wrong with my skis. Eventually Humberto (who is a very patient guy) came to fetch me, and this is where the disaster began.
As I reached for his little ski pole thing that he held out to me, I lost my equilibrium (not that I ever had any in the first place), and went sliding down the hill. In the process, my skis, being the gigantic unwieldy things that they are, cause my left leg to twist in a totally unnatural position that wrenched my hip practically out of its socket. It hurt. A lot.
I writhed in agony for a while until they sent a snow jet ski thing to fetch me. Humberto and Ana promised to meet me at the bottom, and I was rushed off on the jet ski that actually had a siren. How embarassing. However, that was where the rushing stopped.
If you are ever in Spain, take my advice: Don’t get hurt. You will regret it. They took me to a little first aid station, where they asked me questions about how I got hurt, and then left me in a wheel chair. There were about ten Red Cross people just standing around chatting, but not a single one appeared inclined to see me. Finally, one asked me if I could move my leg or walk, which I couldn’t. Then I was ignored some more. Eventually they decided I was injured enough to go down the mountain, either that, or they just got tired of me sitting around crowding up the place.
I ended up plopped in the emergency room in the ski village, and was told to fill out more forms. Around me were about a hundred other people, all waiting to be seen, most of who did not speak Spanish and kept asking questions of the secretary (who only spoke Spanish) about how to fill out the forms. At this point, I decided to make a break for it. I could sort of walk if I leaned heavily on my skis, so I snuck out trying to look as healthy as possible. Thus, I escaped the clutches of socialized medicine.
Back home, after the several mandatory after-ski drinks at the bar with Humberto and Ana, I decided to examine myself for any bruising or swelling. However, this presented a problem. Mostly, the back part of my hip was where it really hurt, and I couldn’t get a good look back there just by twisting around (not to mention, twisting hurt too). So, I carefull stood up on the bidet (yes, we have a bidet) in front of the bathroom mirror with a little handheld mirror, and did the double mirror trick to get a good look at my hip.
At this point, I noticed I have a nice ass. I’d never given my ass much thought before. I’d never gotten a good look at it, it being behind me all the time, it was sort of like it wasn’t there. Of course, my ass was useful for sitting and such, but beyond utilarian purposes, it had been mostly ignored. Now, I realized, that my ass is actually rather nice looking, much better than most asses I have seen in the movies.
Luckily, my ass and leg seem to be recovering, although I still limp along like some kind of zombie, and my leg won’t move from side to side. Epilogue: Humberto and Ana want me to come skiing again on Saturday!