Dude friggin’ sambaed* on my bum knee this evening. I was changing into my dance shoes; he was screwing around on the sidelines. I Am Not Happy.
(*Past-tense of “samba,” if you’re like me and looking at that makes your head hurt)
Dude friggin’ sambaed* on my bum knee this evening. I was changing into my dance shoes; he was screwing around on the sidelines. I Am Not Happy.
(*Past-tense of “samba,” if you’re like me and looking at that makes your head hurt)
Ouch ouch ouch!
Morning-after report: my knee feels a tiny bit janky, but is otherwise completely serviceable. I dodged a bullet, even if I didn’t dodge the guy (sheesh).