What Lies Beneath

LizzieLou | lolly palooza,nablopomo | Thursday, November 29th, 2007

In order to help me out with the blogging thing, I have received two books (“No One Cares What You Had for Lunch” and “Learning to Love You More“) meant to put a spark to my lazy creativity. They both recommend sharing stories and/or photos about scars. Well, the best scar around doesn’t belong to me, but Lolly didn’t want me to take a picture of her arm. Little did she realize that I just so happen to have one at my disposal anyway.

arm.jpg

The thing about showing the scar was to tell a story. I think that showing yer bones can tell an even better story.

Some years ago, before I met her, Lolly was driving her little sporty car on Ponce de Leon Avenue in Atlanta. Then she was smooshed by a very large Ford Truck. This resulted in a very kissable little dent on her forehead and the shattered dominant forearm (oozing hamburger now pieced back together with metal plates and screws) you see above. Luckily, and against the predictions of the doctors and surgeons who told her she’d never type again, she does have a workable arm with all the moving parts generally intact. She can’t hoist a bowling ball, but she’s not the bowling type o’gal anyway. On our first date (that wasn’t a date until afterwards) while I wasn’t making much eye contact, I had the opportunity to gaze at the giant scar on her arm. Was it some really badly botched attempt at wrist cutting? No… finally I had to ask and heard about the smooshing, the metal plates and the subsequent encounters with public safety officials and their metal detecting equipment. She can set the detectors to beeping, particularly in Miami and at my previous place of employment.

After the accident, she had to show up at traffic court in spite of the fact that she had no memory of what happened. One of the men gave her an appreciative smile as she walked in her little dress with her pretty smile and her giant bandaged arm and said, “You’re looking much nicer today!” And was then that she realized, having previously received the shreds of the clothing she had been wearing at the time [“My dress! My favorite dress! Yay! …. Cut in half and covered in blood?? NOOOOooooooo . . . . ” – Lolly], that she indeed had been naked on Ponce. Not that the clothes were blown off in the accident or anything, but due to the dramatic scissoring ministrations of the EMTs. In my mind, when I picture it and the intersection in front of the Krispy Kreme in which it happened, the “Hot Donuts Now!” sign is flashing.

2 Comments

  1. she’s like RoboCop. Only not a cop. RoboLolly. Badass.

    Comment by Linsey — November 30, 2007 @ 9:39 am

  2. Damn. Guess this makes my biggest scar (open appendectomy) nothing to write home about.

    Comment by eelaine — November 30, 2007 @ 10:22 am

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