This weekend I was walking the sidewalks of downtown with one of my favorite butch besties at my side and with an arms load of amazing sales when I managed to place my lovely suede equestrian boot on what could only be an ice skating rink for mice. It was perfectly round and smooth, clear as a gorgeous diamond. I felt myself slip and my body went right into reaction mode, but the reaction wasn’t quite quick enough and down I went.
Stomach meet ice. Elbows meet sidewalk. Feet meet the air.
Before I even had time to start my primary assessment of my possible injuries the bestie swept in for the rescue. I tried to tell her I was fine, laughing uncomfortably from shame and extreme discomfort but she insisted on helping me. Slowly and shakily, I manage to make it back to my feet and my hand was placed in the crook of her elbow, with her other hand holding my goodies. As we continued our winter stroll I looked over at her and thought “She is a knight in shinning armor and whoever she chooses to be her beloved will be so fucking lucky.”
Moral of the story, always help a damsel in distress and watch out for that damn ice.