Bury my heart at busted knee

So... I love to dance. LOVE IT. I love to dance so much that I danced myself into a frenzy a few nights ago and ended up seriously injuring my knee. Now, I am walking around in a giant, not-so-fashionable knee brace, and have been outfitted with some snazzy crutches. This has made me learn a few key things. Number one, no matter how much the rhythm moves you, stay aware of the the natural limits of your limbs and joints. Otherwise, it's snap, crackle, pop, and you're on the ground. Number two, no one finds whimpering and crying attractive, so either buck up or shut up (Ok, I did not do this, I wailed like a child). Number three, when going to the ER, don't worry about looking classy. Go there in sweat pants and slippers, they're easier to take off.

Luckily, despite of my injury, I'm back to work. Capogiro 20th Street is remarkably handicapped-accessible. No stairs, moats, or wobbly bridges to get across. I'm finding that I'm hobbling around quite nicely behind the bar. You should come on down and check out my amazing crutch skills. Soon I'm going to try to spin plates on them whilst balancing my one good leg on the back of a very small bear. It's going to be amazing.