" I fall forward, in what feels like slow motion, landing with my face right in the lap of an older gentleman sporting a bright blue Speedo. To make matters worse—you mean it actually gets worse than a face full of wrinkled, hairy balls? Yes. Yes, it does, because I can’t get up. Blinding pain shoots up my leg from my rolled ankle. "

― Heather M. Orgeron , Doppelbanger