Another uni story, sorry...
In my first year, I lived with a guy and two girls. The lad (P) was fairly quiet, kept himself to himself (has since become union president, so something changed there), and didn't like anyone being in his room for longer than a quick chat. He was very proud of all his stuff and kept everything spotless. One girl (B) was really nice, helped me through a couple of teen angst issues, but again, not much of a party animal. To be fair, at this time, neither was I.

J though, loved the booze. Lairy, cheeky, Northern, not the smallest girl, but would quite happily go out in tiny skirts and tops, drunk most nights. At the time, I found her incredibly annoying.

Anyway, backstory out of the way. One night, J had been out on the lash, again, and came in with her mates, completely plastered. Rolling round on the landing, legs akimbo, I ducked into P's room to mock and snigger. Anyway, she came in, and trod on the edge of a shelf that was waiting to be put up.

She winced, but carried on talking, until the carpet under her foot started to turn red. She'd gashed her toe open pretty badly, and started running round the room, spreading the blood more. P's face was a picture; absolute horror. Me and B were torn between helping and pissing herself.

Eventually, we sat her in the bath, raised her foot and called an ambulance. B went with her, and me and P got to cleaning up. The bathroom looked like something from CSI, and his bedroom carpet was a complete state. Lots of 1001 and Vanish later, things were normal.

P barely spoke to her again, and she moved out a couple of weeks later, then left the uni. Shame really, she was the most fun, we'd probably get on like a house on fire now.
(Dizzy Steinway, Sun 1 Mar 2009, 20:03, Reply)