Sitzmark

I just love that there’s a word for the depression left in snow after a skier falls backwards.

Many years ago, I hit a plane of ice while snowboarding and flipped, landing directly on my tailbone. At the time, I hadn’t realized that I had broken it; I just knew that it hurt like hell. I didn’t want Ted or Brian to stop having fun on account of me, so I got up, smiled, waved, and told them I was juuuuust fine – I was a little tired, though, and was going to go read for a bit. Get some air, relax, blah blah blah. Then, once they were back on the lift, I quietly limped to the car.

This is the scent of the drink I would have loved to have had right at that moment, while I was nursing my injured pride and broken ass: hot cocoa with a belt of whiskey and kahlua.

With marshmallows.

When you break your ass bone snowboarding, you deserve a goddamn marshmallow.