At the convenience store where I purchased the No-Doz and the Pepsi, I bought another cola, Bactine and a package of large-patch Band-Aids.
The cashier, a man with a face made for astonishment, put aside the sports section of the Los Angeles Times and said, "Hey, you're bleeding."
Being polite is not only the right way to respond to people but also the easiest. Life is so filled with unavoidable conflict that I see no reason to promote more confrontations.
At this moment, however, I happened to be in a rare bad mood.
"Do you know you're bleeding?" he asked.
"I had a suspicion."
"That looks nasty."
"What happened to your forehead?"
"Yes, sir. I wish I'd been eating with a spoon."
"You stabbed yourself with a fork?"
"A flipped fork?"
"It flicked my forehead."
Pausing in the counting of my change, he gave me a narrow look.
"That's right," I said. "A flipped fork flicked my forehead."
"What's that on your forehead?" Britney asked.
"You fall down drunk or something?"
"You in a fight?"
"No. It's an employment-related fork wound."
"A flipped fork flicked my forehead."
Alliteration seems to offend people.