The champagne cork you caught last night

Saturday, 3 September 2011

I set the bottle down on the counter with the cork loosened. I reached to get something and the cork shot out past my face with a bassy pop. Scared the living daylights out of me. Thought I was gonna collapse.

I snatched it out of the air on its way down. Didn’t try. Didn’t think about it. Didn’t look at it. Didn’t see it go up or coming down. It was just in my hand; off-hand.

And in the midst of the laughing adrenaline rush from the scare and amazement for how long this unconscious reflex training has lasted my buzz was fucking killed. Stomped flat. This is what I’ve trained for. Catching surprise falling crap for my own self-congratulation and the occasional bored acknowledgement of another marvelous feat of physical trivia from the wife.

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