I play hockey. No, not Janie, him! Yes, him – the guy that I am.
I have always been fairly good at sports, and quite competitive, and I proudly love and play Canada’s game – hockey.
But, there I was last time out, when a guy took a shot that hit me in the ankle and smarted like the ever-lovin’ dickens! And, what do you know, but the only thought running amok in my head as I crumpled to the ice in pain was, “Oh, no! I am going to have a bruise; how will I ever be able to wear that skirt and heels next weekend?”
Now, it didn’t take me long to become more realistic in my thinking, but it was no less distressing, “Sheesh, this really f***’in hurts… I might not even be able to walk in heels at all!”
‘Scuse me! Has anyone seen that GUY I am supposed to be?
Well, in my defence, I did skate it off and finish the game despite the pain – that’s manly, right?
Then, I went home to ice it in the hopes of heading off that nasty and unbecoming bruise.