I drove a little over ninety miles this morning to have this meeting. I arrive carrying a cake box of one dozen freshly-baked assorted bagels in my right hand; on my back is my trusty red daypack, containing among other things my (1) laptop (2) digital SLR camera (3) glasses and (4) mess of other things.
Entrance #1 appears to be locked. This is not a problem, I will just walk around to Entrance #2. Which also appears to be locked.
I can see no one inside.
I continue around the building towards Entrance #3, and it is just about at this point when BOTH OF MY FEET shoot straight out from under me, because apparently what I took for 'water' on the wheelchair apron was in fact not 'water' but 'ice.'
There are few times in life when one can be genuinely (somewhat) grateful for having a fat ass. This was one of those times. I landed hard, with an audible 'thud' (I heard my impact echo off the concrete wall of the building) but fortunately the daypack helped cushion the fall. (Remember the laptop, camera, et al?)
I sat there in the muddy melt for a moment, feeling the cold and damp soaking into the seat of my pants, as well as the big stupid pain asserting itself. My right hand was strangely pinned beneath the box of bagels, unwilling to give them up easily. The cakebox was sprung in that way that cakeboxes are wont to spring, yet not a single bagel got so much as a spot of dirt or a drop of water on it.
Once I caught my breath, gathered my thoughts and determined nothing physical was irreparably damaged, I slowly and deliberately released an unfettered torrent of bilious invective and profanity into the robin's-egg-blue South Dakota sky. Then I gathered myself up, brushed off the seat of my pants, refolded the cakebox of bagels into proper order, and began walking again towards Entrance #3.
At this point, a petite woman rushes out with great purpose and urgency to see if I am okay. The last syllables of my tirade had mercifully faded as she made her approach, and she very kindly and solicitously escorted me into the facility and looked after me until I convinced her I was not mortally wounded. (turns out Entrance #3 was also locked). I offered her a bagel.
If one is going to slip on an icy sidewalk, it is wise to do so on the premises of a hospital or health-care facility. It is optional to do it in full view of a conference room full of bored senior staff who are looking for a humorous and entertaining diversion in the middle of a long and tedious presentation.
Did you know that the Federal Government has an online, web-based incident reporting form to be used in just such instances? Well, not surprisingly, they do. And I have completed it.
In the final analysis, no bagels were harmed, the laptop, camera and everything else in the daypack were fine. The folks I went to meet with did not witness my hijinks; those folks who did witness them know a grand entrance when they see one. They will remember my visit long after the @#$%^& pain in my ass (and my humiliation) have faded.
PS: My Sioux name is now "Ass-Walker Who Brings Goodies"
PPS: I realize I should have titled this "So Sioux Me."
PPPS: Maybe file this under "Sioux Falls?" "Ow! My Butte!"