Depth Imperception

I'm not THE clumsiest person in the world, but very often I seem to somehow miss the free space and aim right for the hard surface, be it a table, cabinet...wall.

And you would think since I've had glasses since I was 10 my eyes would have acclimated to my surroundings, but as the years progress I think I'm doomed to constantly dodge destruction.

I thought about that just now as I bent over in the shower and smacked my head on the subway tile. Then I did that automatic head jerk thing, as if the wall somehow just appeared and I really expected to go through it.

Something similar happened to me a week ago too, although this one hurt more. I was outside my car and leaning back in to grab my purse when my big-ass forehead hit the top of the car. Then I did that half-whine/half-laugh thing, and hoping to God no one was really watching.

I remember doing THAT same cry/laugh back in England while playing some soccer with my Englishmen buddies Matt and Dave, and Ashley. I slipped on a mud patch and went flying backwards, landing hard on my ass. I might've even started actually crying from the pain, but I'm pretty sure the tears were from laughing too (at least I hope).

Yet despite my accident-proneness, you may be surprised to know I haven't been in that many accidents in my car (knock on wood). And any I've had were just small bumps and scrapes, again, due to my crappy vision and perception.

One time, speaking of Englishman, was when Ashley, Bethany and I had to go pick Matt up from D.C. for a visit back in Baltimore. We were meeting our other friends at a coffee and S'mores cafe called "X and O's" (or as we mistakenly called it for a while, "Xando's"). I was pulling into a spot next to another car when I made the turn too wide and ended up screeching slowly into it.

"Ohh fuuuuck," I said as I tried to pull back out and redo my park job. We all jumped out of the car to check the damage and suddenly the guy in the other car popped out. I was all ready to dig out my registration and insurance info when the guy took a look around and said, "Oh, I did just do a paint-job...Ah, don't worry about it."

I went cold and stood ready for the onslaught of anger and watch my money float away but this attitude I wasn't prepared for. And then we realized what actually WAS floating through the air was probably the explanation. I couldn't believe this guy wasn't going to at least throw a couple of well-chosen curses my way, but then we smelled the wafting scent of pot emanating from his car. Actually, Matt was the first to notice that.

"Did you smell the weed coming from him? No wonder he didn't want to involve the cops," he said.

He seemed extremely calm and jovial, so I thanked him profusely. I didn't care if the guy was shooting heroin, I was just grateful that I saved myself a raise in my insurance, let alone whatever he would've wanted to repair the scratches.

But as I near my birthday I guess I just have to accept that the number of bumps and scrapes I acquired before will undoubtedly continue to grow...just like the thickness of my lens.