Yup, so, had a new subway adventure today. I was walking down the stairs into the station with a hot coffee in one hand and a lack of Physics in the other, and I stumbled twice then fell down the stairs. My left hand palm and my left forearm took the visible brunt of it, but I’m feeling unpleasantness in my middle finger and shooting pains at random in my wrist, elbow, and shoulder.

I was a bit stunned so I stayed sitting at the bottom of the first set of stairs. One person ran back up the bottom set of stairs to ask me if I was ok, another person was walking down the stairs I was on and asked me if I was ok. New Yorkers are kind at heart. I’m sure their internal dialog was less kind in some way, but who cares about that part, it was very nice of them to ask. I told them both I was fine, just stunned. It’s not my first time falling down stairs unexpectedly or being stunned from something I didn’t understand was happening to me until after I was on the ground, so it was nice to have that familiar feeling back.

The best part about the whole situation is that I watched hot coffee fly up into the air, then fall directly back down on the lid of the cup. As I got up to go I sucked the coffee off the top of the lid and went on my way down the next set of stairs, through the turnstile (which of course ate an extra fare from me to stick that nail in the bad day coffin), then carefully down the remaining staircase. Since I had nothing to clean up my bloody palm or scraped arm I just held it close to myself on the train then picked up alcohol swabs at Duane Reade when I got into the city. (Perhaps now is the time to tuck some of those swabs into my bag for future incidents. Yes, yes.)

And so I’m back to rookie status in the subway.

Life could be much worse. I just like telling you my stories.