While riding the train the other day, I managed to damage myself. It wasn't in a fascinating way. It was when I tripped and fell against a staircase and managed to slice away a bit of my pinky. As the blood gushed out, I turned to look for what on god's green train had cut off my pinky part. There was nothing but plastic encased polyester. Being used to freak accidents, I quickly grabbed a tissue and wrapped up my damanged bit.
Right by my seat was a plastic-encased first aid kit behind a locked plastic door. I started to wonder about all the plastic-encased parts of the train. It's as if they don't want the passengers to get hurt or something. When the train dude walked by checking tickets, I embarrassedly mumbled that I needed a band-aid because I hurt myself on the stairs. He stared at me and said, "what?" I explained again, pointed to the scene of the damage and he ran his hand over the plastic and polyester. He came away unscathed and completely confused.
I asserted that I did fall, I did lose a bit of pinky, I needed a band-aid and that I routinely suffered freak accidents. After figuring out that I probably wouldn't be suing (unless he didn't hustle his ass over to the band-aid station), he started the process of releasing my band-aid from it multiple plastic prisons.
The main lesson I got from this is that I would not survive as a caveman. Or cavewoman. I suspect that the human lifespan significantly increased due to the invention of band-aids. And fingernail clippers. Between these two inventions, I'd say that human life more than doubled.
Fingernail clippers actually might be more important than band-aid in the continuation of life. This is becuase when you have a hangnail, there is no other possible solution to dealing with it other than fingernail clippers...unless you have a band-aid. Imagine being a caveperson (it's probably the politically correct term) and having a hangnail for, say, 10 months. It snags on everything, even things across the cave you were only looking at. There would be no fixing it, just one snaggy day after the other. All day. It'd get caught on your favorite berry tree, snag on your rock pillow, and catch on your rock scrubby-thing-that-is-a-rock-pretending-to-be-not-a-rock. Seriously, with this quality of life who wouldn't "accidentally" trip in front of the saber-toothed tiger?
This event was very much akin to the day I got a paper cut on my hand from a maxi pad. The universe is a strange place that circles black holes (a.k.a. compressed wool sweaters) and I routinely quote myself.
An Erinku:
mysterious calculator
actually two
a world without a
lack of calculator
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