Nearly a year ago my friend Kara, formerly of Loveland Colorado and now living in beautiful San Diego, got married. My sister and I (Kara’s actually Lindsey’s friend) were going to go. We bought tickets, had our bags packed and were headed for an early flight out of DIA (which incidentally I was in trouble for scheduling. Appearantly Lindsey thinks all vacations should start at 4pm).
The night prior to our depature I recieved a phone call from my sister. Her husband, Bob (yeah, we have the same first name – It’s not THAT strange), had fallen off a bicycle and hurt his knee. We might have to cancel the trip. I waited on pins and needles for her next phone call. When she called she had bad news. Bob had broken his knee and was going to have to surgery – she couldn’t go to San Diego. I could have went by myself, but it didn’t sound like fun, so after multiple cursing, hitting walls and yelling at the dogs I called the airlines and changed our tickets.
Later I found out the actual situation. Bob had been working late and Lindsey, as the wonderful wife she is, had taken him some food. The plant where he works is gated and one of his co-workers suggested Bob ride his bicycle out to the gate. Bob rode out to the gate and attempted to balance his supper on the handlebars of the bicycle. His balancing attempt failed and he planted his foot to regain his balance. Unfortunately, he lost more than his balance, his knee shattered, an ambulance was called, surgery was performed with multiple pins and our trip was cancelled. All this for a personal pan pizza from Pizza Hut.
Now fast forward 11 months. Kara’s wedding is (obviously) over, but we still have tickets for San Diego. We are finally going to see her. Booked the tickets this weekend and requested the time off work. I’ve never been to California, so I am excited. Pray that there are no more freak accidents this time.