So on my noon-to-one lunch hour I went over to the local theatre. It shut down last month and the owner is moving stuff out as we speak- He's been doing this just about every day. Today he asked if I'd give him a hand with one thing. As a friendly guy, I had no problem obliging... as a quiet guy, he didnt tell me what I was in for. Let me preface this- I move people for a living. I move homes and belongings for the 4th largest moving company in the world... largest residential moving company... worlds largest moving franchise system. I dont wish to give off the specific name cause it is irrelevant, but let me say also that I work as a manager for the original guy whose family started it all. I have also been doing this job off and on for 12 years, and yes... there is a lot of ego in with the experience. If anyone... ANY ONE tells you theyre moving a 1930s movie projector.... and you're offering to help on your lunch just to be a nice person... dont offer to help, dont be friendly. POKE THEM IN THE EYE, TURN, and Run for your life. Im tellin ya its the best thing you can do. So, We're upstairs and this 1000 pound bohemoth iron base is finally strapped to the rented dolly. I decide that since I can leverage a piano single handedly down a flight of stairs (and I have done it twice grudgingly and without damage) I can surely leverage this moose of iron and steel down there. And mentally I added, it will be especially easy, with a good 50 inch landing (separating only 9 steps at a time) to maneuver and a hefty nonbreakable concrete block wall all around.... right? WRONG. First step down, the weight of this thing cracked the solid rubber tire on the rental dolly, and since I was the only one holding this thing in place, the rest of the item was swiftly handled by the evil-B**ch-goddess named "Gravity", with lowly me the only projectile in this soon-to-be-catapult, and the only target, a space on the wall above the landing about equal with the top step... Fling-splat-thump. I hit the wall above the landing about 9 feet off the ground, then proceeded to fall and to impale my right arm on the iron spoke meant to hold the camera in position. After a few minutes of rest I went and rolled it down he other landing on an adrenaline rush. I feel like Wyle-E Coyote, but with more "super" and less "genius". I gotta check if this camera was made by "Acme" So here I am finishing off my work day behind a desk. Since durint the day, I normally work alone most of the week, it was not until 2:30 that I realized I have a rip in my shirt on my right arm and a nice blood stain, gently concealing the 2 inch gash on my bicep. My right knee is about 1.5 times the size of the left one. I currently walk like Im going to the bell tower to ring out my love for Esmorelda to the world. And that guy still is trying to get it out the front door nearly 3 hours later. Im ok---- I wont go to the hospy or doc or nothing, even though this surely warrants the trip... I just wanted y'all to visualize a 300 pound plus guy getting flung like daffy duck into a block wall. LOL..... Fwwwing! YEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWW- splat-woosh-thud. So share your moron moments! Has anything like this happened to you?