Spine-Tingling

Once again, I find myself lying on the floor with the wind knocked out of me. My first course of action in these cases is usually to determine how someone else is at fault in this case, the blame lies squarely with Vivian, my high school sweetheart.

But first, a word about my spine.

When I was in eighth grade, they told me that I had scoliosis. Given that I had thick glasses, flat feet, and braces, my MPS (mockable physical shortcomings) plate was already pretty full, and I was resistant to the idea of taking on another one. To convince me, they showed me the x-rays of my spine, which bore a striking resemblance to that knot they kept teaching us in boy scouts that no one could ever remember how to do. It was pretty hard to argue with that, especially when they superimposed the picture of a rollercoaster car riding down my vertebrae (smart alecks).

The point I'm trying to make is that my spine is very curvy, and as a result, I have more back pain than the average Joe (assuming Joe doesn't have back problems like me). Why is this important? Frankly, it's not, except that it provides vital background information for my story, which I will begin telling now.

So there I was, at the movies with Vivian. This was the same theatre where we had gone on our first date we reminisced about the Milk Dud battle that had taken place and the resulting truce negotiations that ultimately ended in our first kiss. We smooched and whipped a couple of Jujyfruits towards the screen in commemoration and, cheerfully ignoring the surprised yelps from the front row, settled in for the film.

About 20 minutes in, my back began to hurt, as it often does (see, I told you it would figure in). I contorted myself every way I could think of, earning the hatred of the folks directly behind me, but nothing helped. Vivian suggested that I crack my back, as she did several times each day. I had attempted this before with little to no success, but I was willing to try once more - I placed my hands on the armrest as instructed, then began to twist. I strained myself to the point that I feared that an unexpected sneeze might rip my torso in half, but my vertebrae just wouldn't pop. I was about to give up, when I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders. I began to scream "NO!", but only got as far as "N-" before Vivian snapped my shoulders around.

A sonic boom radiated outward from the base of my spine, spilling popcorn into the laps of fellow movie patrons,

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