What to do with a broken toe?
I’m never driving a golf cart again.
Certainly not on the golf course.
Definitely not anywhere off the golf course.
You would have thought I’d have learned from “The Day I got Caught in a Golf Cart.”
Maybe golf carts are somehow super dangerous and tricky.
And yet. When I was asked to drive an insanely large (16 person), gas powered golf cart with no headlights and no rear-view mirrors at work, I said “okay.” (Well, really, I felt “okay” was the only acceptable option. I mean, who would say they are afraid to drive a golf cart that big?)
Maybe I should have taken it as a sign when I couldn’t figure out how to put the golf cart into drive or reverse. (The super big ones have this funny crank underneath your seat. How was I supposed to know that!?!?) And then when I wasn’t strong enough to stomp on the parking brake and get the car to actually, you know, drive. (Apparently the makers of extra large golf carts assume that extra large people drive them and my 115 pound frame is not heavy enough to lift the parking brake. Seriously. I applied full Lora body weight to try and get the parking break to lift. Nothing happened. And I was pretty much STANDING on the parking break. Finally…I had to ask a male co-worker for help.) I should have decided at that moment that the golf cart and I were never destined for friendship.
Maybe I should have thrown in the towel when, en route to my station to pick up the retirees (for whom the golf cart was for), I got stuck in a sticky situation. A trash can was my nemesis. The golf cart was WIDER and obviously LONGER than the normal size golf cart. And guess what? (This really should have been common sense on my part.) The super-sized golf cart a) can’t turn normally and b) doesn’t fit on the same size sidewalks as a normal golf cart.
So, about ten minutes into my golf cart excursion, I got trapped. Trapped between a stairwell, a building, a bike rack, and a trash can. With the help of a mathematician to calculate the angles (I wish I was joking..but this seriously happened. Thank God for the appearance of random super smart Professors at JUUUUUUUST the right moment), we were able to extricate my golf cart from its tight place and out into the grass beyond.
Maybe I should have thrown in the towel then.
But I didn’t.
I went on my merry way. It started to get dark. The no headlights started to become an issue. And the no rear-view mirror. Why would they not put those on a golf cart that is bigger than my Toyota Corrola? I ask you. Anyhow. Despite the emerging darkness, I picked up the elderly and brought them to their destination. I smiled. I laughed. I was meeting new people–one of my favorite things. Especially older people, who have so much to say.
Then the golf cart and I had our falling out.
I got stuck. Again. Only this time? This time it was dark. There was an event full of people watching. A brand new building. And zero turnaround room. I tried to be stealthy. This golf cart at least didn’t make any loud BEEP BEEP BEEP when I went in reverse. No, no suck luck. Maybe some beeping would have helped. Maybe then I could have enlisted a retired Mathematician to help me out of my bind.
I was going to have to get out alone. I timidly tried to drive the cart forward. To be met by a stupid weird black pole. I attempted a turn. Nope, there was a wall. Maybe I could turn the other way, I thought. Nope, there was a GLASS WINDOW WALL. There was no other option. I was going to have to reverse and go forward. And pray.
Tentatively, I pulled the lever and moved the golf cart to “reverse.” Nothing happened. Ever so gently, I tapped the gas, intending to slooooooowwwwwwwly ease the cart into movement. Instead, the golf cart just went FULL SPEED AHEAD, only, you know, FULL SPEED in reverse. I mean, the golf cart went from zero to hero in the split second it took me to barely touch the gas peddle. I was like the Titanic only instead of colliding into an iceberg, I was about to make TOTAL GOLF CART CONTACT with a brand new multi-million dollar building that only opened days previously. I had less than a second to react.
I did what anyone would have done.
I slammed on the brake for dear life.
Only, somehow, I over-exuberantly slammed on the brake. My cute ballet flat went flying–landing on the sidewalk outside the golf cart. My bare foot smashed the brake awkwardly sans shoe. And my earlier enemy of the parking brake had its final say. YES. I managed to stop the cart. I did not crash into a wall of windows. (Can you imagine the years and years of bad luck that would have given me?) But in awkwardly walloping the brake with my bare foot, my itsy bitsy (and formerly super duper cute) PINKY TOE found itself crushed in the gap between the parking brake and the regular brake. (Why would they have a gap there anyway? SERIOUSLY, I need to have a stern talking to whomever makes these idiotic golf carts.) My toe made a lovely grrnnnccchhhhddd sound. And instantly began to swell. And turn a nasty shade of red and purple. And stuck out at an odd angle.
HELLO BROKEN TOE!!
But at least the golf cart was safe. And the building had no damage. Only casualty? My poor little toe.
After that, I turned in my golf cart keys for good. Let’s never have me drive a golf cart again, mmmkay?!?
So that’s how I had my falling out with a golf cart. And how I came to break my pinky toe.
No running. No ballet dancing. No insert tons of yoga poses here. And limited CUTE SHOES! Terrible, terrible, terrible!! Who knew a pinky toe could be so important?!?
Oy vey. Time to get creative with my fitness. Time to re-think and re-examine those February goals! Looks like I spy some swimming in my future.
What’s the dumbest injury you have ever had? Have you broken a toe? What did you do to stay healthy and happy with your broken toe?