Last week a woman photographer shooting a furniture catalogue at the brownstone stepped off the steps and rolled her ankle.
Two snaps.
I comforted her while we waited for the ambulance and lied to her, saying, "It's probably ligaments."
"How do you know?"
"Because I played basketball for years and we were always getting injured."
She asked more questions and I told her not to worry, but I knew it was a broken ankle.
I had heard those cracks before.
Not from me.
Ten minutes later the EMS crew arrived and strongly suggested her going to the nearest emergency ward, which was less than three blocks away from the Fort Greene Observatory. As they drove away, I thanked the heavens for my good health and thought about what my Irish Nana said in my distant childhood, "As long as you can put on your shoes in the morning than you have no reason to complain."
I wasn't trying to be a smart-aleck, but I asked, "But what if i want to wear sandals?"
Whack.
Sometimes it's better to not ask so many questions.
Especially when there's nothing really wrong with you.
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