manly moment
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| Pulling muscles is something I'm good at these days. In fact, it doesn't take much at all to find a reason to be in pain for a few days without even trying. I can accept muscle pain as the result of doing something manly. Yet, it's rarely a manly moment that yields a hearty pulled muscle. Recently, I've managed to pull a muscle getting out of my car; the 2002 Kia Rio 4-door with power nothing and no A/C. I pulled that muscle in your lower left back that you didn't know could be pulled until you try laying on your side in bed at night. However, getting out of the car is usually not a hazardous endeavor. But it recently became so... You see, for some reason my driver's side door no longer opens. The lock doesn't work. The outside handle doesn't work. The inside handle doesn't work. It's just not working at all. I have no clue why. So what does a good mechanic-wanna-be like myself do when he can't get in his driver's side door? He crawls through the passenger-side door, across the 5-speed gear shift and pulls a muscle in his back as he pops down in his bucket seat while kicking his coffee he just jammed into the cheesy cup holder that wasn't made to hold his ginourmous stainless steel Starbucks travel mug from 2002. It beats crawling through the window ala Bo and Luke. I think I'll slide across the hood of the General Ki tomorrow on my way to work and yell yeehaa before kicking my coffee and pulling another muscle. That would at least feel like a manly moment. The other morning I needed to drive on to Fort Meade to visit a friend. And since I don't have "official" business to conduct on the same Army post that houses the National Security Agency, I am always asked to pull my car into a special inspection station. The subcontracted manly tough guys at the inspection station on post usually ask to simply see my driver's license and proof of insurance. Yet, last Friday morning was special. They asked me to get out of the car and open all four car doors in addition to opening the hood and trunk for a "random" inspection... So with three manly armed guards watching, I crawled out of the bucket seats, over the 5-speed gear shift, kicked my coffee in my stainless steel mug and stood on the passenger seat like a toddler and pulled another muscle trying not to smash my head on the ceiling of the car as I stepped out on to the pavement in front of the subcontracted manly tough guys. I'm convinced that they thought I had something "hiding" in my broken door. I wondered if they would flag the three sets of darts in the trunk that I tossed in there on moving day from Indiana that were next to my rubber galoshes that I haven't worn since 2003 and my Jude Cole, Tom Cochrane & Bon Jovi "Crossroads" cassette tapes that have been kicking around back there since 2006. So I pulled out the big guns.... I told them I was a pastor and there to visit someone... and they let me go about my business. It was a my finest manly moment of the day. That was before I had to crawl back in the car .... | |
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