If you're catching my drift, you'll realize that this means I broke a table at work. On Saturday night, as part of closing down one side of the dining room, I was sweeping under neath all the tables. Well, our cook came up front to chat with me, because she's getting married in a few weeks, and she's going to go get her dress. We were talking about styles and weddings in general, when I went to lean against the booth table F2. Not sit on, lean against. I didn't get to put all my weight on it before it tilted and I was going down.
As it turns out, the tables against the walls are just pressboard on a straight-arm support and held on with a few screws and wood glue. When my weight landed on it, the part of the table that was screwed into the wall broke (the pressboard split) and it was too much for just the support screw to hold. So, I went down with this table against my back. According to Audrey and Alyssa I fell quite gracefully, but the table bruised by upper arm up pretty badly. It swelled up immediately, and was darkening in minutes. I laughed it off and treated my arm easy for the rest of my shift (only about half an hour) and went home. Sleeping on it was hard because every time I rolled over onto it it hurt. And by the time I woke up and was on my way to work, the whole right side of my back was stiff and sore. I found a gauze pad and some bandages at work and wrapped up my arm to protect it. There isn't any broken skin, but some compression and a little padding helped me get through the day. You'd be surprised how much you don't realize you beat up your body until you hurt an integral part of it. Since my right arm is my dominant one, it made working hard. I have a hard time lifting anything much more than five pounds, that that's just about everything that I do at work.
But I'll heal. Some bengay and aspirin will help that along, and hopefully I won't be gimped for too long. Thank god I have off today.
In other news, Bob's birthday is Tuesday and so we all (read: a group of about eight of us) went to a German beerhouse named Brauhaus Schmitz. It was an amazing place. A bit expensive, but not ridiculous. The food definitely could have cost more than it did and everything I had was delicious. In fact, I had something called Gemusespatzle,
(pictured left, sorry for the blur)which is a potato pasta served in a cream sauce with seasonal vegetables (artichokes, which I promised myself I'd try and tolerated), mushrooms, and carmelized onions. Patrick had Wiener Schnitzel, which is a veal cutlet served with something I forget. For an appetizer, we got Kartoffelpuffer, which are potato pancakes served with sour cream and apple sauce. For dessert, I had blackforest cake, which had definitely been made with some kind of alcohol.
And oh, the alcohol. I, of course, couldn't order any drinks as I was the only underaged person there. However, that didn't stop me from trying everything that was ordered. Since everyone there were pretty much comfortable with each other, everything got passed around. Drinks, food... it's a good thing that none of us were sick except for Patrick, who didn't share with anyone. Caryn got blackberry schnappes, which was sweet and tasty, but man did it deliver a slap to the face. Bob got his first beer (Ayinger Celebrator Doppelblock) free because twice he ordered and they didn't have what he wanted. Reid, someone new to the blog and an old friend
from highschool, got Jever pilsner, which was pretty mild. Dan got another pilsner, a wheat beer that unexpectedly tasted like apples. It was all really delicious, and we all spent the night laughing and chatting over the kind of kitschy german music playing over the sound of the patrons.Oh, and some people might not know this, but Germans have this thing with David Hasselhoff. They love him, and no one knows why. We came up with a new euphamism for using the bathroom last night due to a picture of hasselhoff hung above the toilet. Going to the bathroom is now "hasseling the hoff". Dan went to the bathroom and came back saying, "David Hasselhoff was watching me pee." We were amazed at this. Caryn has a picture of the picture on her phone. But the worst part isn't that The Hoff is staring down at your back as you use the facilities, no. It's because the picture is reflected back at you in the mirror above the sink. You are being watched on all sides as you pee by David Hasselhoff. It's a little disconcerting.
I'm going to finish off the post with some pictures of the night. Hope your week starts off well!
PS: Dad, be proud of me. I tried authentic German sauerkraut, and it was terrible.
1 comment:
Oh great. Now you know we're going to have to go to this place, right?
You had to say the sauerkraut word.
If your body doesn't feel better soon, you should get it checked out.
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