I got one, happened back in March while I was working on the Quest Shuttle Intrepid... I had just CAed the wing tips on the tiny little glider, and was admiring my work, picked up the completed booster section, and was holding it with my thumb and fore finger finger "pinched" onto one of the fins so as not to touch the still drying black paint on the edges.At this moment, I glance down at the Glider sitting there, and pick it up with my left hand's pinky, sticking it in the airframe tip - where the balsa cone will be glued in. I'm getting a profile of them together, right ?
You might know where this is leading, because as I put the glider back down, and started to set the booster down, I suddenly realized I had glued my entire thumb pad to the booster. Worst of all was the beautiful USA on the left wing was right under it. I don't know this yet, but I've set up a terrible chain of events - even though at this point I'm so darn ticked off I can't see the disaster to come
At this point, I'm baffled as to how to remove my thumb without causing a lot of damage to the pristine paint job, so being the wise and dilegent rocket guy I am (read - idiotic moron who never thinks his next step through very well), I reach across with my left hand to grab the Finger Nail polish up on the shelf (used to smooth in Signal Putty) and as I do, the open CA bottle has been bumped with my elbow, and has attached itself to the shirt sleeve covering my left arm by a small drop of CA on the tip. I begin to try and open the Cutex lid with the thumb and forefinger on my left hand, while the booster dangles solidly attached off my right thumb, and then it begins.
It being this little voice in the hollows of my cerebral cortex, akin to the dwarf who tends to smoke too many cigars and look at hustler magazines in that blimp story some time back, only this voice is screaming stop, don't move. I of course, being the larger voice of the two, decide to once again ignore said voice, and continue to pry open the Cutex. Not only was there a drop of ca on the tip of the bottle that is now stuck to the shirt sleeve near my left elbow, there was a larger drop which had slid down onto the side of the bottle, and my reaching across had caused the bottle to touch and barely contact the just finished and drying glider.
As I twisted off the lid of the cutex, I look down to make sure I've not jostled the glider sitting on the table, and realize its disappeared. A quick search of the floor nets no results, and then as any 40 year old tends to quietly do, I try to remember where the glider has went in the last 30 seconds. I look up on the shelf, then not seeing it, stand up thinking I put it up there - out of harms way - so I could attack the central problem. No glider. I turn, look to the desk beside me, again no glider.
Then the catstrophe reveals itself. The glider has now dettached itself from the bottle of CA, and fallen to the floor, I hear it, bend over to pick it up, and spill the entire bottle of opened cutex down the left arm and hand, onto the glider and floor, I'm cursing, screaming NOOOOOOOO in a loud voice, which sounds exactly like a 10 year old girl confronted with a giant hairy spider, pick up the now soaked glider with wing tips falling off, set it back on the table, sit down and stare blankly at my still-glued thumb now with no Cutex to help remove it.
As I'm sitting there, I feel a jostle on my left arm, and realize its the bottle of CA. In a fit of rage I try to swat the bottle off with my right hand momentarily forgetting the attached booster, and succeed in bashing the booster onto the corner of the desk, knocking off one fin, the booster itself, and leaving me sitting there with a piece of painted balsa dangling by the smallest amount of CA. I flexed the thumb, and the fin flutters to the ground.
The moral of this story is, IF this happens to you, never, ever let them hear you scream.