Working in kitchens, as I have said before, is no place for carelessness. Some of my coworkers have learned this the hard way, sometimes at my expense. We had a very pretty young woman come to work for us. I'll call her Angela. Angela had a problem with the principle of the in door and the out door. When she was on the far side of the diningroom she'd take a short cut through the out door rather than taking the few extra steps to come in the proper door.
One afternoon there was a small disaster in the diningroom and I was called out to help. I was headed out the door when Angela decided to come in it. The overloaded tray she was carrying hit me square in the chin, knocking me out cold!
I went down in a heap, the dishes she was carrying hit the wall, broke, and one of them cut a deep gash in my cheek. When I came to I was laying on the floor and the boss was holding a cold compress to my face, telling me to lie still. An ambulence was on its way. I told him I really didn't think I needed one, but he insisted. I took a ride to the hospital. It only took a couple of stitches to close my wound.
When I got back to work Angela was sincerely apologetic, making all kinds of offers to make amends. I told her everything was fine, and not to worry about it, but from now on to use the proper doors.
The whole rest of that summer I never had to ask for a soda, or to bring my lunch in. Angela checked on me hourly! She offered to make amends with other things, but I told her my girlfriend at that time wouldn't appreciate that very much. And she answered "Well, anyway, I think you're the nicest person in the world to forgive me for that!"
I told her it was really nothing.
Over the years I've learned to duck pretty fast, but sometimes even I get taken by surprise, and I often wish I had been a tad bit faster. When old scars ache I wish it very much!