Queen of My Own Court

One good thing that has come of my recent injury is everyone has a tendency to wait on me. It's really a beautiful thing. If I sit down in a chair, everyone will come sit next to me and ask me if they can get me anything. We went to a picnic over the weekend, and I never left my chair. My fabulous friends brought me food, alcohol, and dessert. Seriously, how fabulous is that????

I have gotten so used to it, that I am a bit cold and callous with my requests now. I expect so much now that I simply hold up an empty glass and nod and I fully expect someone to refill it within seconds. (And usually they do.) And if I want something, I just point and gesture. I feel like a Queen. Well, at least, I am acting like a Queen. If for some reason you hear of my beheading, I'm pretty sure that will mean Paco has hit his breaking point.

Recently, my mother had knee-replacement surgery, and I was one of the first people in the waiting room. So, naturally, I took my court in the most comfortable chair in the room. Which just happened to be a recliner. And the lovely lady working at the desk even brought me out a pillow to prop up my leg.

So there I was, propped up in the recliner, holding court in the waiting room. (Unfortunately, I left my tiara and wand at home for the day.) The volunteer kept refilling my coffee, and the nurses kept coming out giving me updates. It was wonderful.

That is until the 400 pound lady in the chair next to me started choke-snoring. She would snore loudly and then she would stop suddenly. Seriously, I kept thinking that she had stopped breathing and then she would do this snort-choke sound and continue on snoring. And, naturally, she was right next to me.

And if that wasn't bad enough, another lady decided to turn the television channel from the morning news to the Jerry Springer Show. Seriously, I didn't even know that show was still on. I am wondering if it is a requirement to have missing teeth and your brother as a father to get on that show.

Then, the room began to fill up. And fill up some more. Soon, every chair in the place was taken.

A lovely man with a briefcase sat on the other side of me. He wanted to know all about my injury and share all his tales of woe. We chatted for quite a bit. He was very charming. His wife was there having knee-replacement surgery also. So, we were swapping notes. In the middle of his telling me about his wife's knee, I heard a loud squeaking noise, like when you rub your bare skin on vinyl. Then, my new pal says "excuse me" and keeps on talking about how his wife wasn't looking forward to the scar on her knee.

Woah, back-the-truck-up. This adorable man just farted in a full room of people and completely "excused" himself. Nice. I kinda like this guy. He's got some cahones. However, after the 4th "excuse me" I was beginning to get a bit perturbed.

So, after much coffee and chit chat, I am still perched on my fabulous recliner. My niece stopped by and brought me lunch. She even went to the bathroom for me. I never had to leave my throne.

That is until the tatooed guy wearing woody woodpecker suspenders decided to come and chat with me. He was doing his best to be flirtatious, as he clearly could tell I was royalty.

However, his breath smelled of stale cigarettes and coffee, and it was all I could do not to gag right in his face.

I really felt the need to put my hand up and dismiss him with a wave. However, it didn't work, and I just ended up looking like I was having a mild seizure.

Perhaps next time I will remember the tiara.