Pretty Ballerina

I was a Prima Ballerina that fell from God’s grace in a previous life…..Image

I most certainly had my “grace” taken from me.

Let me explain…..

It is Saturday morning.

It is my bath day, twice removed.

I badly needed a shower and a shave.

By looking in the mirror before me, I will be requiring a bra soon as well….

This has been a very bad week.

Everything that could go wrong during the commission of my duties as a trucker did go wrong.

Traffic, Road Rage, Baton Rouge, new on-board computer system, new payroll system….Baton Rouge…..

It’s just been one of those weeks that come every so often to all of us in one form or another.

I am looking forward to this shower.

I NEED this shower.

I don’t stink mind you, but I just need hot water, steam, 2nd degree burns and shampoo that doesn’t cause tears to burn my eyes.

It is a purification ritual that also gives me time to think.

I have a lot on my mind.

My wife and I have been separated just over a year.

We have seen each other maybe….4 times in that period.

We talk/text daily however and are not bitter or hurtful towards one another.

She thinks I am her dead husband, and I think she is my ex-wife.

But, we are working on it.

I just seen her this past weekend and it was a good visit until she got sick on the pizza we had delivered and threw up on me in bed.

I spent the rest of the night holding a wet rag to her face or watching the bathroom door open and close every 15 minutes.

The sounds that came from that bathroom……

Have you ever seen the movie “The Exorcist”?


I distinctly remember thinking to myself as I pulled the sheets from off the bed, “Damn, this is a good start to the week”.

So….Here I am……6 days later….Standing in a shower at the truck stop, looking at myself in the mirror as the water comes up to temperature…..In deep, contemplative thought.

I lay out my shave kit, deodorant, after-shave, scrunchie, razor and back/crotch scrub rag thingee.

I lay the small towel on the floor at the door of the shower.

I hang the body towel on the wall-hook thingee by the door of the shower.

I wrap my scrunchie around my wrist.

I reach my hand into the stream of water from the shower nozzle that I have previously adjusted to “deluge”.


Perfect volume, perfect temperature….perfect.Image

I step into the shower and move into the stream of welcome and opined “thinking juice”.

I stand there for a second or two, staring at the tiled wall right below the shower head.

I lower my head and shake it slowly; looking at my feet and thinking to myself “It’s amazing that I can find my ass sometimes”

I step from the shower onto the small towel and take off my soaked underwear and soaked socks.

“Why do you torment me oh Lord?”

I step back into the shower deep in thought.

Have y’all ever experienced that split sub-second moment when stepping into a shower of “Oh shit, it seems that I am going to fall”

Of course you haven’t….

It’s more like “…OH … (slip, bump)…FU……”

My lead foot shoots out from under me as if being repelled by gravity, skating across the shiny tile in a numeric pattern of a “7” while the rear foot is still stuck on the small towel just outside of the shower, kicking and trying to stabilize the top heavy trucker in an alphabetic pattern of a “W”.

My arms flash out to God knows where, as if I am in the dark. My left arm is whipping around as if throwing a fast-ball upside down, never mind that I’m right-handed and my right arm is sweeping around as if it’s become detached, doing nothing at all except slamming my elbow into the door of the shower.

The scrunchie is floating before my face as if weightless.

My center of gravity is in flux.

The man boobs are becoming a source of lethal kinetic energy now…..

My frictionless lead foot is splaying to the right, my trailing knee crashes into the floor.

My left shoulder falling forward, my right arm flapping, the scrunchie still wrapped around my wrist looping and jerking in circles as if on a crazed Ferris wheel from hell.

I’m on the floor of the shower now, well….at least half of me is.

My face is pressed against the tiled floor of the shower…….A parquet pattern I think.

My right leg is in the shower stall.  My left leg is wrapped in the small towel and is dry.

The water continues to spray from the uncaring shower head onto my inert form.

It’s seen it all before….

I watch the water as it swirls around the drain, thinking I am Janet Leigh from the shower scene of “Psycho”Image

I blow water bubbles from my mouth and spit out soap suds.

The scrunchie, still around my wrist says…”You need some help?”

“No…no….I think I’ll just lay here for a second and collect myself”

My shampoo says something from behind me “I think his back is broken”

I wiggle my toes and flex my butt cheeks.

My shampoo reports “No…we’re good back here!”

Glad to hear it I thought.

My cell phone shouts from the basin “Do I need to call somebody?”

I say “No, just give me a damn minute and I’ll get up, I’m just going to let all the stupid go down the drain first”

My clueless razor asks “Did he fall down?”

My shampoo says “Yeah, and he can’t get up”

They think this shit is funny.

I slowly raise myself to a crawling position, my arms and legs shaking, the man boobs swinging.

Somebody flushes a toilet in the next shower room.

I hear the change of volume in the shower head……

“Well…..” I think submissive to fate.

There is nowhere to run when the burst of scorching water comes out.Image

My body finds new life, and springs up like Poseidon from the depths of the sea, trailing boiling water and steaming soap suds from my hair, beard, arms and bared defiant teeth….Waving my scrunchie around as if though it were an ensign to battle!

Then….My head comes up and crashes into the soap dispenser, knocking it from the wall.

I sat down in the corner of the shower and almost took up sucking my thumb again.

14 thoughts on “Pretty Ballerina”

  1. Oh, you made me weep! Half with laughter, but at least half of it was sheer sympathy. Ouch, ouch, ouch! Hope you’re not permanently damaged. BTW, it’s not stupidity; it’s laser-like focus on the muse. That’s what I keep telling myself…

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