OK, I admit that I write barefoot but should I suffer for this?
After smashing several wimpy office chairs into dust under my Jumbo-size frame (twice last week, I ended up flat on my back while on Skype. I was told it was pretty funny to watch but my wife took the chair out the second time and refused to give it back. )
So I went online and order a Heavyweight Office chair from a major retail Office Supply chain–let’s call them “Paper Clips.” After disposing of the broken chairs, I constructed this metal monster and, despite it’s total lack of padding, felt secure that it wouldn’t self-destruct.
Little did I know that deep within this beast lurked a hunger for blood–specifically MINE.
At some point this morning, I realized that there were bloody footprints all over the house. OK, I admit that I’m working on a new private eye novel but these were REAL. A thorough investigation revealed that the steel pipes that are used by “Paper Clips” to hold up my hefty frame have razor-sharp edges and were gouging holes in my ankles. More irritating was the fact that I got slashed another two times while bending over to take a look.
Finally, a liberal application of gauze (to me) and adhesive tape (to the chair edges) appears to have lessened the bloodshed in my office. I really would prefer to keep the blood to the pages of the novel–if nothing else, it’s easier to clean up.
Funny, all those tough detective heroes never talk about having to get the blood out of the wood grain or soaking a dishcloth in cold water to get the stains out.