drink is dangerous
whilst shopping for my mate's 21st birthday party, my shoe and foot decided to part company. i fell face-first onto the pavement, putting my arm out to stop myself.
unfortunately, it was the arm that had the bag of wine bottles on it.
they broke.

a mutual friend of ours saw me fall and ran over to help. "oh my god," she says, "that cut is huge!" looking down at the roughly 1 inch cut in my arm, i decided to humour her. "oh, yeah, it's really bad."
steering me towards a low wall, she insisted i sit down. i thought she was making a lot of fuss over nothing, but i sat down anyway, as the fall had shaken me up a little.

after talking to her for a minute or so, i realised my hand felt sticky. looking down i saw that my arm, hand and the little paper bag with the birthday card in it that i was holding were all drenched in blood.
realising that all this blood couldn't have come from such a tiny cut, i swiveled my arm for a better look.

the bone of my elbow grinned up at me from the mouth-like gash in my flesh. the broken bottle had sliced me so quickly and cleanly, i hadn't even felt it.

giving my friend 20p for the phone(yes, 20p, that's how long ago it was!), i told her to call me an ambulance, then call the birthday girl to let her know what had happened and tell her i'd be late to the party.

rumour being what it is, by the time i got to the party, people thought the bottle had sliced into my chest and i was having life-saving surgery. not exactly fair on my friend, i completely upstaged her on her big day.
still, six stitches, a large blue dressing and a shot of morphine didn't stop me boogying the night away!
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Sat 9 Aug 2008, 3:10, Reply)