Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Chicken Little in Seattle

One of the most bizarre things that has ever happened to me took place yesterday morning.

I was on my way from the Seattle Sheraton to the Convention Center a block away for the opening of the Web Design World conference. I stopped to read newspaper headlines in the newsboxes on the street, mostly to see what kind of new atrocity Bu$hco might have mounted while I was sleeping the night before.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, something fell out of the sky and bonked me on the top of the head. At first I wondered if it had been a stray bullet, but then I thought, “this is Seattle, not Philadelphia.” I put my hand on the spot and when I took it away saw I was bleeding profusely. People on the street corner edged away from me. A lady suggested I go back into the hotel lobby and seek assistance.

The pretty, young desk clerk was visbly upset when I casually said I’d been injured on the street, yet she remained composed. Hotel security officers appeared and started barking into walkie-talkies. One guy pulled on rubber gloves, brought antiseptics and ice and called 911.

Minutes passed before the ambulance pulled up in the crowded downtown street, and its wailing sirens caused quite a stir, as did the EMT guys strolling through the lobby. They took me upstairs to an empty room and checked me out. They said I had a 1/2 inch gash in my scalp, and suggested I take it easy for the rest of the day. We all speculated about what might have fallen from above, but nothing was found on the sidewalk.

After they left I went back up to my room to clean up and compose myself. It took almost an hour for the bleeding to stop. But the sense of unease and profound relief that I hadn’t been killed didn’t leave me for the rest of the day. I went to the conference, and felt queasy and light-headed. I knew I had escaped a close call, having survived an unknown object falling on my head from a tall building.

This morning I passed by the spot again with a sense of dread and relief, thinking about the thin line between life and death. All day today I was filled with a kind of existential anomie. I suspect I will feel that way for some time to come.



At 3:02 PM, Blogger DetroitGirl said...

Geez! At least all you got was a gash...that poor woman in Boston died. Are you better?

At 4:52 PM, Anonymous ste!!a said...

Well chicken little... glad to hear that the object didn't go clear down to your toes.

So was it a moon rock? Maybe some foam from the shuttle... No one was interested enough to search for the object for you? Geeze I would have done it.

Too many objects fall from the sky and hit the wrong people. That's what happened.

The object thought the coordinates were correct the object raced down at you. Then the remote control operator saw through the tiny fiberoptic camera that you we're Cheney after all. It was all a mistake. The breaks were put on and you survived. That's why you couldn't find the object. It was set for self destruct.

Thank goodness!

Hope you are feeling better.

At 8:35 AM, Blogger DetroitGirl said...

Maybe that's your big "brush with death" thing that makes you reevaluate your life and realize how lucky you are to have a friend like me!

At 8:14 PM, Blogger JR's Thumbprints said...

Glad to hear that you survived the falling debris and were able to attend the conference. Hope you picked up some valuable info, since it almost cost you your life.


Post a Comment

<< Home