Most people who know me think I'm retarded. Well that's not exactly true. All people who know me also know I'm retarded.
Maybe the best example of this would be the time I was doing dips between 2 metal file cabinets in my office as a sort of "who's the man" style competition among the engineering staff at my old company. After approximately 4 dips my hands started to sweat like a hot ass on a cold window. Anyway like a complete fucking douche, captain sweaty, instead of calling it quits right then and drying off the palms decides that he's got something to prove to the rest of these pencil pushing Autocadians. I mean these guys were physical specimens and so I was determined to prove my mettle and become their leader by doing dips until my arms fell off. Unfortunately it wasn't my arms that fell off. At approximately 6.25 dips, in other words 1/4 of the way back up to the full 7, the President/General Manager of the company strolled past my office door. He was drawn back to the door by the audience and as he approached, my saucy right hand shot straight out in front of me off the front of the right cabinet. The corner of this same cabinet gouged a path down the underside of my forearm as my upper torso slung forward and it continued it's shivery along my ribcage. My feet actually rose up the wall behind me as I pivoted about the fatceration and as I continued my descent my right foot became entangled in the cord for our departmental laminator. This was a fine piece of equipment I had become the resident expert in providing document protection with. Well apparently she (all equipment is female) turned on me. She chased her cord off the edge of the cabinet toward my rapidly declining foot and as I hit the floor ol' Lammy(that's what I called her) jabbed a corner right into the right side of my head just above the temple. At this point I knew I had won the respect of the engineering staff and was collecting myself and assesing the damage as I casually awaited their applause. Sadly instead of applause a lone voice broke the deafening silence. The Pres/GM made a three step reversemaneuver, reappeared in my doorway and calmly stated "I trust that will be the last time this happens?" and then moved along just as cool as something totally cool. Although he seemed slightly annoyed I knew he was impressed with my dismount. And I'm pretty sure he was laughing on the inside. In fact several years later he would hire me to be our Network Administrator and I have to think the way I handled myself that late summer morning went a long way to sealing the deal. That job opportunity changed my my career path and my life and I will always have a fond memory of the cabinet dips and the 9 inch scar on the right side of my torso.