Murphy's Law and Banana Cue Sticks

That's where that dang stick entered my foot!

My friend, Liza Lewser and I, planned to go on jogging last night at the UP campus. So after meeting with Christian, I went straight to UP and waited for Liza to arrive. When she finally did, I had read all the ads on the waiting shed board down to 2003.

We started stretching beside the sunken garden.

“so how many rounds do you think we should do?”, liza lewser inquired.
“about three. That’s my average.”

Average? I only recall having jogged here twice in my whole lifetime! The first time, I was in full ROTC combat gear with a heavy WWII rifle, perfectly shined combat boots and garrison belt, about 11 years ago. The other time was a hot morning last year, afterwhich I slept the rest of the day due to sheer exhaustion. Well I did three rounds in each so I guess my average is three. Nice.

Two hundred steps into it and we knew we were crazy to have even considered jogging. We wanted to head straight towards the fishball stand and just count the joggers while making tusok tusok the fishballs. But I knew I had to shed off those months of mcdonalds fries and burgers from my system. After what seemed like forever, we completed a round! We decided to do just a little more then go home.

While walking, I felt some sharp pain on my left foot. When I looked down, I saw this banana cue stick poking right out of my shoe! How the hell did it get there?!! I reached down and pulled it out then immediately removed my socks and saw a puncture wound on the dorsum of my left foot. It actually pierced my foot to about an inch deep! How fun! I came to jog and got a barbecue stick up my smelly foot. Why not an isaw stick? why not a barbecue stick??

I knew I needed to get some anti tetanus shots so we headed to the infirmary. Problem was, I only had P200.00 in my wallet while Liza had…..tadaaaaaa! a whopping P20.00! I said we needed to find an ATM machine. Ackkk! I remembered my card. So I started calling the sister. As usual, the sister’s fone could not be reached. Do you see a pattern here? She’s always out of reach when I’m in deep trouble. Good thing, a friend, Persia, lived nearby. Do you see a pattern here? A friend always lives nearby!

So I got cleaned up in the UP Infirmatay..errrrrmm... Infirmary, had a skin test (aww, that hurt!) and a shot in each arm. I can only count how many times one can get punctured in a day.

Persia paid for my meds and bought me ice cream. And I dragged her to the isawan to buy me isaw and chicharon before I went home sore and bruised.

Murphy must be my middle name.

thanks for the help, sha. pay you when i see you. :)