Dart + Eye = Lose
When I was 7, my parents took me to Butlins for a few days. It's a place that somehow seems OK at that age. Played darts with them one night, and although I was crap, I was enthusiastic.

Ran up to the dartboard, pulled out one of the darts I could reach, dislodging another one, which arced straight down into my eye, hitting just as I blinked. Miraculously, there seemed no damage, so we just continued playing.

In the middle of the night, I ended up having to get my parents to look at my eye, as it felt gritty, and there was a part that I couldn't wet at all. Dad took me to the camp matron (not a camp man, natch), who in turn deposited me with a couple of the security guards who took me up the local casualty unit in a lovely Butlins van.

UV-reactive liquid in eye puddled, to confirm that I had actually managed to dent my eye right in the middle of the pupil.

They issued me with some horrible cream that had to be applied twice a day, and a couple of surgical eyepatches which I had to wear for the duration of my holiday. I wandered around that looking like some fucking junior albino pirate, feeling slightly less than pleased with myself.
(Glis, Tue 7 Sep 2004, 17:53, Reply)