minding my own beeswax does not mean that am completely oblivious to the surrroundings such that one becomes a walking roadblock who gets in the way, though got to say, that am just one of those poor unfortunate souls who just ends up being "the accident". such is my lousy life. think "walking accident" should be illuminated on my forehead like a fluorescent neon signboard or something, with "please stand clear" tattooed across my back as a precautionary safety measure.
was just in a candy store picking out some candy when this slightly above middle aged old uncle was moving a trolley full of boxes of goods stacked a hill high for stock replacement. was itchy handed to want to help since he apparently appeared to be struggling with the tonne load, especially with beads of perspiration pouring down his balding crown and neck like the niagara falls. thought better of it and decided not to as did not want to get him in trouble since the candy store staff were watching him like hawks for one, plus it is also his job, and there are anal pricks who get offended when one crosses the line when it infringes into this circle called "job". neatly sidestepped and gave way to him so that he could move past easily with the trolley load and get what he needs done so that he could maybe finish up earlier, perhaps to head home to a wife and kids for dinner, while me went back to my candy search. the candy store flooring was a little uneven due to cracks and patches in the linoneum, was even staring at one ill repaired "hole" for awhile and had a feeling that something was about to happen.
true enough, split seconds later, "the walking accident" lived up to the reputation of being "the accident". as the the uncle was unloading the boxes, the trolley was rolling about slightly in a to and fro manner due to the weight shift. the trolley is unforgiving as it has no eyes, nor brakes for the matter, and so therefore, was the infelicitous "hit and run" victim. long story short, the trolley, still stacked with boxes, probably a molehill high now considering the uncle had unloaded a couple, rammed straight into my back, and hitting my spine and jabbing my tailbone. considering it happened before one could blink, became the candy store's hit of the moment statuette, pun intended. just too pained to say a word and too stunned to even yelp an "ouch". goddamnit, it still hurts like a bitch till now, all thanks to the old tail bone injury.
so much for being good intentions in a non helpful manner. perhaps that was retribution for the lack of altruism, or for that piteous pittance of gracious generosity. on a serious note, if the knock has to happen in all its predestination, then for crying out loud, knock me down already, dead would be good, because unceremonious insipid half hearted ones like these are just agonizingly torturous, and a complete pain, literally.