The Time I Sprained My Ankle at the Tonya Harding & Nancy Kerrigan 1994 Museum (a post by Anna)

This is the story of the time I sprained my ankle at the Tonya Harding & Nancy Kerrigan 1994 Museum:

It was the museum’s big opening night gala. I convinced my strangely-reluctant friends to join me and couldn’t have been more excited. 



The injury, which happened before the gala even began, is the boring part of the story. I took a tumble and flailed my arms in the air yelling “whyyyyy” with no sense of irony whatsoever. I really thought I’d broken a bone. But my heart was set on Tonya Harding & Nancy Kerrigan, so I found a seat and powered through.

In true Bushwick fashion, the gala started with glittered cupcakes, Tonya/Nancy trading cards, and PBR. The museum curators gave a presentation on how to know if you’re a Tonya or a Nancy, and then several performances began.

Are you a Nancy or a Tonya?

Are you a Nancy? Or a Tonya?

At first I thought synchronized mini-trampoline faux-skater dudes in leotards were my favorite part, but then a guy singing his own George Michael parody called “I’ve Gotta Have Skates” won the gold.

Synchronized trampolining.

Synchronized trampolining.

Though the entertainment successfully numbed my intense ankle pain, eventually the gala ended. My friends carried me out to the most expensive cab ride of my life. It was a night of firsts, so I don’t know why I’d expect anything less.

The next week, I went to a doctor who recommended x-Rays and a very sleek orthopedic boot.

Gotta boot.

Boot, from aerial view.

Doctor’s orders were to take it easy. I’m not a sitter, so the next month of my life was torture. I spent every waking hour being waited on by Gwen, seat-filling Broadway shows, and bonding with a bag of frozen quinoa. Things got so bad that I voluntarily accepted a free seat-filler ticket for the show Gigi.

My budding relationship with quinoa.

My BFF, quinoa.

I was helpless, so my mom offered to visit for Mother’s Day weekend. After flying to NYC, she cleaned my room, went grocery shopping, did my laundry, took out the trash, and cooked my lunch for the week, all while I RICE-ed my sprained ankle. It was the best Mother’s Day I’ve ever had!

Me, Mom, and Mothers Day Macaroons.

Me, Mom, and macaroons.

The minute my mom left town, my ankle injury was cured. What a miracle worker!

I guess the moral of this story is… tread carefully while you’re at the Tonya Harding & Nancy Kerrigan 1994 Museum; it’s all fun and games until you leave in a cast.


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