I can’t make this stuff up

The thermometer outside read -1.6 degrees Fahrenheit.

I donned my balaclava, pulled over my hood, zipped up my winter barn jacket and… *pop*.

The zipper broke.  No problem, I thought, I’ll take care of that when I’m done with the chickens.  I slipped on my mittens and headed outside into the bitter cold.

When I arrived back at the house, I pulled off my gear and I placed my fingers on the head of the broken zipper and pushed down.  Nothing.  I felt around the zipper head with my fingers, not finding any fabric caught I thought, well… does the zipper move up?

I pulled and it easily glided up a few teeth.  I pushed down and… nothing.  Oh dear…

You know that feeling you get when you’ve gotten yourself into a situation to where there doesn’t appear to be an easy solution?  Where your brain starts to get panicky and think things like…

I thought that perhaps I could pull the jacket over my head.  Yes!  Over my head, that’s what I’ll do!  I held one cuff as I maneuvered my arm out and repeated on the other side.  I grabbed the hem and pulled up, leaned forward at the waist and…. just stayed in that position for a moment as I felt the zipper head dig into my upper lip just a little bit, caught on my nose and said, “Ow”.

I said, to Shiloh who was laying on the floor nearby, looking at me with her sweet face cocked to one side, “this isn’t good.  I may have to cut myself out of it.”

The jacket-come-cowl hung about my neck like a boa constrictor and I once more took the pliers in hand and grasped the zipper head and tugged.  Nothing.  I flipped the zipper over, inspecting for caught fabric and again, it was clear.  You’d think that at this point I would have decided against pulling the zipper up again, but you’d be wrong.  I delicately pushed the zipper upwards and with two clicks of movement I stopped, my hands in “jazz hands” position and my eyes wide like I just happened upon some sort of explosive device.  Shit.

I applied the pliers once more, tugging for all I was worth as the panic and frustration started to creep in once more.  There was nothing.  Somehow, my brain decided that a different mirror would make all the difference and I changed rooms, trying at the zipper once more to no avail.  I had to step away from the problem.  Which is difficult to do when it’s wrapped around your neck, but I went and poured myself another mug of coffee and sat at the computer.  You know what will make this better, I thought, laughter.

Oh... it happened.

Oh… it happened.

So, I type up a little ditty in Facebook, on Twitter, in instant messages.  I took a photo of myself in my predicament – because “pics or it didn’t happen”.  I emailed that off to Mr. Muse who called and LAUGHED, repeatedly.  Then he suggested taking a needlenose pliers and breaking the zipper head.  I informed him that I didn’t particularly care for the idea of stabbing myself in the jugular with the needlenose as the zipperhead was right in that general vicinity   Then he suggested that I just wear the jacket all day until he got home to get me out of it because he’d hate to see me ruin a perfectly good jacket by cutting myself out of it.  I whined.  I didn’t work out yet.  I didn’t want to wait.  I would probably attempt to pull the damn jacket over my head once again despite the pain – because it was temporary – and I wanted the jacket OFF.  Mr. Muse laughed again, told me I could work out once he got home and got me out of it, but you know… whatever I wanted to do was okay with him (not really – he still didn’t want me cutting the jacket off).

DazyLady – she laughed.  Jeff – he laughed, and then said he wouldn’t have thought I’d go out like David Carradine, mistaken for some strange case of auto-erotic asphyxiation gone awry.  Thanks, Jeff.  He also said, “Pics or it didn’t happen”.  So I sent him the photo… and he laughed harder.  Others commented that it was funny.

It’s only funny when it’s not happening to you.

Okay… it was pretty funny.

So I drank my coffee and let the panic and frustration fade with the salve of laughter applied.  I decided to channel Harry Houdini and grabbed a pliers in each hand and headed to the bathroom.  I grabbed the top of the zipper and held on as I tugged downward with all my might, the pliers slipping and making me punch myself in the chin.  I tried again.  And again. And then there was a pop of a few teeth.  HA HA!  I tugged more, and within a minute another few teeth popped.  Third time was the charm and I tipped forward and pulled the jacket, the nylon causing static and so with each grasp of the jacket I got a handful of hair, too.  My grunts of effort accompanied by “OW!” as I pulled hair and jacket repeatedly, inching the jacket over my face.

image001Shiloh stared at me with her rheumy eyes from the bathroom door, head cocked, and with my release I shouted a hearty, “HUZZAH!”  That was quickly followed by an “ouch” and rubbing my face where the inside of the zipper head had dug in, but I was free.  I also looked like I was holding onto a Tesla plasma ball…which made me laugh.

So what did I learn?  That the zipper manufacturers placed a levering “lock” in the head of the zipper to prevent it from slipping downwards, and that the zipper pull released the lock.  Those sneaky zipper-manufacturing bastards…

Yeah, I can’t make this stuff up.

Photos Courtesy of:
Yours Truly

About The Amusing Muse

Deep thinker whose mind operates at warped speed. Philosopher pondering the big (and little) things in life. Storyteller. Office Ninja. Model. Teller of bad jokes. User of big words.
This entry was posted in Humor, Musings, Personal, Random Thoughts and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to I can’t make this stuff up

  1. Ohhhh balaclava, I thought mate the cold weather got to u and I tried to put on the Greek pastry- baklava.

  2. Hahaha! I feel your pain, especially that shot to the jaw…I’ve sadly taken more than one over the years.

    • LOL I was saying a few choice words as I pulled up on the jacket and down on the zipper – which after a few pops to the jaw when the pliers slipped I decided that it was just best to keep my mouth shut lest I bite my tongue but good. All of my hits to the head probably explains a LOT about myself…

  3. poet365 says:

    That was an interesting scenario
    that you found yourself in, luckily
    you managed to escape so what
    a fine story you had to tell 🙂

    Have a great rest of evening MOTMM 🙂

  4. Rufina says:

    I can completely see this happening to me (although it never has); this is a very entertaining story. Glad you made it safely out of the coat and neither suffered any serious casualties! 😉

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