In one of my psychology classes we were doing a “get to know you” ice breaker and we had to say our name and quirky detail about ourselves. People shared food allergies, near death experiences, etc…. so I shared that I was really, really accident prone. It started when I was like 12 (or at least that’s when I realized it) and it never went away. I’m pretty sure these things happen in threes, the first of this bout being my foot “injury” while walking with a dead leg; the second being shutting my finger in the bathroom door some days after moving in at school; and what I thought was the third (my onyx finger freaking out) was not actually the third at all. The third happened tonight when something I ate at Lonestar got stuck in my teeth. Then somewhere between Lonestar and Marshall’s house made its way into my gum. Yes, inside my gum. I brushed and brushed but to no avail, so Marshall used his creative skills and helped a sister out.
Pictured above:
Marshall’s hands, vibrating tooth brush, disassembled ink pen, toothpick, thumbtack and a paper towel.
45 minutes later…the black speck was gone. And, that would be the third.
Threes, I tell you. Threes.
Theres is no way to retell this experience, you’ll just have to wait for the feature film.
You know, after I write my book and then someone make’s a movie about it. Maybe Jennifer Aniston will still look 24 and she’ll want to play me…

Happy MLK weekend. Peace, yo.

One thought on “Threes

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