A large woman fell off a table.  The table was medium height.  She shouldn't have been up there, but she saw herself as sort of a savior to the masses or at the very least a person who stood up for all the world's social injustices.  When she fell though people forgot what she had been screaming about and braced themselves for a split in emotions.  Half the witnesses would feel sorry for this large woman when she hit the ground and the other half would stifle their laughs.  And if someone was lucky enough to capture the event on camera then a copy of the video would most likely be put on the internet.  A best case scenario would have involved a person with too much time on their hands editing the footage, drawing it out, rewinding, and repeating.  Yes, the best you could hope for was a video in slow motion that looped over and over and at some point the direction would change, but it would be a subtle change and you wouldn't notice it until hours later.

But Boots Walking in America was there.  He ran around the back of the table and caught her.  She seemed shocked.  She might have even shit herself, but that's not very feminine so instead we'll just say that she was speechless.  There was no more yelling.  Half the people sighed in relief and the other half kicked the ground at the missed opportunity and then went back to living their mundane lives.

Haha, thought Boots Walking in America, she is much lighter than she appears.  I like the weight on my arms.  It feels a bit like lead cushions pulling on my biceps, but it's a good strain.  Maybe someday, after I put her down we will meet again and I will know our meeting was cry of destiny.  Hopefully by then she isn't still wearing these dirty sweatpants.  I'll clean her up real nice and she'll be forever grateful that I gave her the first fuck.  Yes, I am willing to fuck this large woman if it is meant to be.  I am already excited just thinking about how great my future is shaping up.  I don't even care that everyone is looking at me and shaking their head.  They all wished I let her fall.  Plop is the sound she would make.  Either that or like a Tyrannosaurus Rex falling into a grand ballroom.  It's been years since I remembered that dinosaurs existed.  They seemed like the only thing we studied in second grade,t hem and volcanoes.

Finally, Boots Walking in America put her down.  She was embarrassed, partly because of how clumsy she must have seemed, but mostly because of the state of her sweatpants.  It had been years since she had cared about her appearance.  Her mother bore her on a Friday and this always seemed like a big deal, but she secretly wished she had been born on Tuesday.  "Leaders are born on Friday," the mother told her daughter.  Yes, the large one would have preferred to be born on a Tuesday and be forgotten about, but this would never be the case.  "Well behaved women seldom make history."  These words were the mother and daughter's battle cry.  They were the first words her mother spoke to her daughter.  This is just as unfortunate as being born on Friday.  As a result of her mother's proclamation, the large daughter abandoned her natural inclinations of minding her own business and instead cried throughout childhood.  The mother cheered her on.  "Make them notice you," her mother said.  And so she continued on crying into her teens and didn't really start talking until after fourth grade.  She also rarely bathed.  Her mother gave her a dollar for every day she wore the same ratty outfit to school.  "They'll notice you.  No matter what, they'll notice you."

Then in high school her mother suggested that crying could be a sign of weakness so she learned to cry silently, deep within herself.  Of course, there was still the issue of living up to her mother's words so she began screaming.  She screamed for change of any kind.  When classmates and teachers began to tune her out she would jump on any object that made her stand taller and would make it seem like she was screaming louder.  This tactic worked; she was noticeably louder.  This is what she had been doing in the cafeteria when she fell off the table.  Though she only half believed the things she yelled about, it was invigorating to jump up on a desk and scream about the liberation of some oppressed sector of society.

At some point in high school she failed algebra and she screamed about that.  Her mother did too.  They both screamed at the algebra teacher every day as he walked through the parking lot to his car.  Sometimes they jumped on his hood and berated the man from there.  Finally, he complied and changed her grade to a D-minus.  It was a great victory and they both actually believed she was on her way.

But she wasn't.  She was overweight and only wore sweatpants to class.  Most boys were afraid of her.  It was a sorry sight.  This does not mean that an overweight woman who only wears sweatpants can't make history, but her tirades usually lacked logic.  If the D minus was evidence of anything one could probably guess that she wasn't too bright.  She had a set of lungs, but screaming just to scream isn't always the best means for change.

Then came Boots Walking in America and he would be the reason she made history.  Her days of standing on the top one of the cafeteria tables screaming about the liberation of inner beauty were waning.  Of course, she said it a bit different.  "I'm an ugly bitch and that scares you!  Look at me!  Fuck me, I dare you."  It always comes down to repressed sexual desires.  At least that's an easy version of this story, but all that was forgotten about when she fell.  For once she was silent.  She just thought, "Oh, I'm falling," and accepted her fate.  There was nothing to argue about.  Gravity's pretty straight forward.  There's not much to discuss.  Paralysis seemed definite.

But she was blessed with a fairy tale ending.

His name was Boots Walking in America.

"Oh, you saved me," she said.

"I guess I did."

"I've never seen you before.  What's your name?"

"Boots Walking in America."

"Oh, that's an interesting name.  What does it mean?"

He didn't reply.  He just looked at his feet which were wearing boots and this seemed to say that his name was a literal interpretation of who he was.

She didn't follow his line of thinking.  Instead, she thought about of how long she had been waiting to lose her virginity, but these thoughts only came in the form of a big blue curtain blanketing her mind.