Escalators, and I lied

So I actually haven’t watched the first episode of Firefly yet. Just after I made my last post, Claire and Fred wandered into the computer lab and dragged me into town for the day, where I ate at Quiznos and watched a man fall down an escalator.

Once you get past the fact that it probably hurt a lot (both his legs and his pride), it was hilarious in the sort of way it’s hilarious to watch soccer players get injured. It’s that sort of “I’m clutching my shin in agony so about six guys will take pity on me even though there isn’t a drop of blood to be found” incident. (Which, despite the fact I’m doing my best to watch, understand, and enjoy football here in England, is still the most difficult thing to go with. Every time I see someone “injured” in a soccer game, I find it hard to believe they have to leave the field. For God’s sake, we can see your legs, and they’re fine).

But I digress. Once I realized that the guy at the bottom of the escalator was more or less okay, it was really hilarious to watch the mall security team shut down the escalator and put up privacy screens to check his injuries. I took a crappy picture on my phone, but I can’t put it on my computer because, well, long story short it would cost me $20, and I don’t care that much.