Doozy

[clevermanka]

I was going to post about shoveling the sidewalk this morning and how, by the time I finished one half, the other half was already covered. And how I, myself, was covered in a heavy dusting of wet, sticky snow by the time I got to the office. Covered enough that somebody laughed at me (not in a mean way) as I tried to dust off before entering the building.

But instead, I have a better story for you.

Like a good secretary, I often do my nails at my desk in the morning here. Nobody's around, and I can type fine with wet nails, so it doesn't keep me from doing my job at all. Unless someone needs help with the copier. In which case I refer them to Front Desk Secretary. Anyway, nails. Paint. I'd brought an old bottle of paint in a nice dark burgundy that I got as a hand-me-down from cedarsong and everflame because they had multiple bottles of it. When I got to the office, I noticed the bottle had leaked a bit (a long time ago) and there was dry paint crusted in one spot.

It didn't look too bad, though, so I gave it a twist. No movement. I got a solid grasp on the bottle and turned hard. And broke the cap clean off the bottle. Along with the threaded part of the glass onto which the cap screws. Great. Nail polish all over my hands and not a little bit of glass in my lap.

I stared at the paint, which looked alarmingly like blood (if blood came in a pearlescent sheen), for a stupidly long time before I mustered the sense to call for help. I couldn't believe I'd just broken the top off a glass bottle with my bare hands--I wasn't even trying hard. I picked up the phone with my least-drenched fingers and dialed the Front Desk Secretary (hurray for one-button speed dial).

"Houston, we have a problem."

"Should I bring a paper towel?"

"Yes, please."

"Lots?"

"Probably, yeah."

She showed up in my doorway with a handful of paper towels and gawked for a minute. I think she expected a coffee spill. Coffee spill. Ha! How bourgeois. Nothing so mundane as coffee spills in this office, let me tell you.

Miraculously, I got no polish on my jeans, chair, or rug, and only a tiny bit on my (brand new) sweater (luckily brown). I did wind up with shards of glass in my lap, and I can't figure out how I managed to not get polish there, too. Not complaining, though.

Most everything is cleaned up, now. I still have some polish stains in the creases of my fingers, but that's it. I have one small, painful cut on the back (!?!) of my right hand, but that's it. I'm so glad I didn't cut the webbing between my thumb and index finger because ow.

So all you people out there, watch out. In case you weren't aware of it, my hands are (apparently) stronger than I thought. They are, in fact, lethal if you're a bottle of O.P.I. polish.

The color name? It's a Doozi, Says Suzi.

Comments

[nataliesee.livejournal.com]

Only. You.

[clevermanka.livejournal.com]

I think it's the combo of bad luck/good luck in breaking the bottle and not getting paint anywhere but on my hands that makes the whole situation so typically me.

[redheadfae.livejournal.com]

^ what she said :)

[stuology.livejournal.com]

Yikes, and I have that color!

Also good to now know the super adhesive power of the O.P.I.

[clevermanka.livejournal.com]

Well, keep it away from me! Who knows what might happen!

[red-tess.livejournal.com]

It makes me giggle a little to imagine what that might have looked like. In a totally sympathetic way, of course. :)

I actually did cut that tender web between thumb and first finger this past fall while cooking for the boys. On a bottle of soy sauce. I have a scar. I consider it "official." ;)

[clevermanka.livejournal.com]

On a bottle of soy sauce

Ow ow ow ow ow. So, like, instant salt in the wound. *shudder*

[red-tess.livejournal.com]

Yes. I thought I was, like, dying. It was very dramatic.

[philrancid.livejournal.com]

Good luck/bad luck indeed. I'm glad this story has an upbeat ending.

[clevermanka.livejournal.com]

No kidding. If I had cut myself badly, I don't think I could have figured out a way to spin it for a Workman's Comp claim.

[clevermanka.livejournal.com]

Per-zactly.

[annamatic.livejournal.com]

I fucking hate all the stupid cutesy-poo names OPI names their nail polishes.

[clevermanka.livejournal.com]

Sorry to hear that. I think they're awesome! Much better than color "01A283BQ" or something unmemorable, IMO.

[stuology.livejournal.com]

I like them too. It would be rather boring to have 50% of them be labeled "Red."

[annamatic.livejournal.com]

It's just the ones that are total groaner puns that chafe me. Oy.

[9thmoon.livejournal.com]

My favourite is "I'm Not Really a Waitress Red".

[clevermanka.livejournal.com]

Mine is the old standby "Kennebunk-port."

[9thmoon.livejournal.com]

Great story. I hope the sweater isn't ruined. Or the phone, or anything.

[clevermanka.livejournal.com]

So far, I haven't found anything ruined except the bottle. Which totally deserved its own fate because it was weak and weakness is not tolerated around here.

[nottygypsy.livejournal.com]

Oh great story. Glad you're ok!
Back in my day I was the master of remembering OPI color names and naming them as seen on clients who couldn't remember what they were wearing. Stupid super power but it made me happy.

[clevermanka.livejournal.com]

Thanks! Feel free to use it. =)

[chronovore.livejournal.com]

GOOD GRIEF, She-Ra, what were you quaffing that morning?

[clevermanka.livejournal.com]

Organic French Roast from Equal Exchange.

RAWR.