Amanda Rountree

While I was waiting for the results of my x-rays in the emergency room, my boyfriend looked at me and asked, “Was it worth it?”

I succeeded in my goal.  I was victorious.  So, yes.  Yes, it was worth it.

But before we get into the details of the Great Pantsing Incident of 2012, let’s pause for a moment and allow me to enlighten you on the unique nature of my gracefulness and agility.

I have three scars.  As everyone knows, a scar is a badge of bad-assery.  When you have a scar, it’s basically a sign you wear on your body that reads, “Ask me how I almost died.”

The first scar I ever got was from falling up the stairs.  Not down the stairs.  Up.  Any idiot can fall down stairs.  But when you fight gravity, that’s WINNING in a major way; that’s a scar that you can be proud of.

The second scar was acquired during a very messy bout with a formidable warrior.  But you know what they say, “You think I look bad?  You should see the bagel!”  Only one of us walked out of the kitchen that fateful evening.  And out of respect for a fight well fought, I honored my foe with a proper final resting place.

Shortly after the bagel occurrence, I saw a friend who had her hand bandaged up.  When I asked her what had happened she told me that she was holding half of an avocado, and to remove the pit had taken her knife and struck down to stab the pit and remove it.  Sadly the avocado slipped and the knife went into her hand.  When I listened to her story, what I heard was a new, bad-ass way to remove the pit from an avocado—because not only am I graceful, dear reader, I am also smart.  And that is how I got my third scar.  I guess avocados are familiar with this violent pit-removal and are skilled at jumping out of the way.  In hindsight, maybe I should have waited until after the confidence from the bagel victory wore off a bit.  A little more humility and I could’ve had that avocado!  (Side note:  Shortly after letting my mom know about this scuffle with the avocado, I received a little gift from her.  Did you know they have a specific kitchen tool for cutting, slicing, and pitting avocados?  It’s awesome!  There aren’t any sharp edges and to pit it, you’re basically using a scooping method…it’s really cool.   Well, I’m just letting you know in case you’re one of those people that isn’t into a thrill-ride when you’re making guacamole.  The lower the risk, the lower the reward.

Some moments in life call for low risk.  Some moments call for greater risk.  One just has to be in tune with the moment.  For example, when you are reclining on the couch and your boyfriend walks past you on his way to take a shower with his belt unfastened and the top button of his jeans undone, if you are truly in tune with the moment, you think to yourself, “ PPO!!!  PERFECT PANTSING OPPORTUNITY!”

If there are any readers out there who are unfamiliar with pantsing, please note that in this instance of turning a noun into a verb, one is not applying the object, but removing it.  Pantsing is to a person as pitting is to an avocado.

So, there I am, innocently lounging on the sofa.  But as soon as I have the idea, I leap up exuberantly from the couch and bound toward my boyfriend—who is now almost to the bathroom.  I have to make this quick because he’s about to go in.  And as good as I am at pantsing, I can’t do it to someone when there’s a locked door between us.  So I have to run—fast—across the apartment.  This is exactly what I do—quite well, I might add.  Just then, out of nowhere, comes this wall headed straight for me.  I instantly attempt to recalibrate my path and leap out of the way as best I can, but to no avail.  I am struck down and there is an unfamiliar and disconcerting pain in my foot.  I scream out in agony.  My boyfriend, despite still having his pants on, is a good man and with a look of worry and lots of confusion on his face, approaches me, asking,  “What happened?!”  This is when I know that all is not lost.  Undeterred from my mission, I crawl on my arms and belly toward my unknowing victim.  Lying crushed at his feet, I gaze into his eyes and cry out in a last breath of triumphant resolve, “I’m gonna do what I came here to do…”

And yes, my friends, it is possible that one can look out on the landscape of this battlefield and see a soldier lying on her stomach with a broken toe and tears of pain streaming down her cheeks, but if one looks closely, one can also see another soldier.  And although he is standing, his pants are around his ankles.