You're not bleeding
Not me, but my pal Jake.
It was at the end of my friend Meg’s 18th birthday party, and her boring relatives had all sloped off leaving a large group of us young ‘uns to carry on drinking. Which we did until the bar at the rented hall closed.

The party had taken place at a small hamlet halfway between two villages on the South coast of Wales and in the search for more drink we set off towards the nightclub (read: small grotty cellar full of jailbait) in the nearest village. To get to the village involves a walk of a few miles, a portion of which leads along cliff paths and through tunnels with no lights in them.

There are about 3 of these tunnels and when you walk into them you can’t see anything- the other end is several hundred yards away. It is night, and as I’ve already said, there are no lights at all in them.

The lot of us moved slowly, walking three abreast through one of these tunnels. Being drunk, and this not being a common route for us, we’d forgotten that there are random beams in this tunnel. We remembered when Jake walked into one- a very loud and meaty sounding collision in the blackness, followed by:
“Ow.”
“Jake, are you alright?”
“I walked into the post. It’s made of wood.”
Silence.
“I’m bleeding.”
“No you’re not.”
“I am.”
“No you’re not, you’re drunk.”
“I’m bleeding.”
“Shut up, Jake- it’ll just be water running down your face.”
This continued as we walked [staggered] through the tunnel, several people telling Jake that he wasn’t bleeding every time he tried to convince us he was.

Ten minutes later we got out of the tunnel- there was a full moon which has turned virtually everything into monochrome. Everything except the bright ketchup red lines which are running down Jake’s face.
“Holy shit! You’re bleeding!” several people screeched.
“I know.”
We then tried to get him to go to Hospital- the amount of blood all over him looked scary, but he wouldn’t. When we finally arrived at the club it was closing, but they gave us gauze and bandages for his head wound, which we piled on with much enthusiasm.

He woke up the next day with a teeny inch long cut just above his eyebrow. Dissapointment.
(greenycrimson I stole the from pyschotherapist, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 16:40, Reply)