So I had a hell of a weekend...
On friday I was quite glad at the chance to have some friends over and to unwind with the bounties of my bar (up to 85 bottles of assorted liquors now) and the pleasures of good company. Little did I know of the tragedy that would soon befall me... So I preppd the apartment, got a few lovely snacks, even a seedless watermelon half to marinate in alcohols as an interesting refreshment option.
People came, all was going well, and then I went to slice more watermelon. With a smile and laugh I continued on in idle chatter while holding down the watermelong to slice, only to have the luscious fruit juices on the plate decrease the surface friction to such a degree that the melon (perhaps in some vegetable attempt at escape) spun and slid from beneath my fingers. With the unexpected twist the force of my cut was altered tragically toward the lateral and my unsuspecting thumb.
With shock and amazement I uttered a hearty "Fuck."
Care and concern writ large on their faces my friends, they chorused "Are you alright?" With a calm belying the speed with which I bled and the irritation at the savage interruption of my hosting I started telling my distressed friends to get me ice, a sober driver, my wallet (and that all important insurance card), and a bottle of cool water to help stave off shock.
So, one hour and some patience later I received for all my hard efforts a wonderful badge of accomplishment for the evening (or at least I will have done once the scarring settles and the stitches are out) and a veritable smorgasboard of fun in this lovely story.
On friday I was quite glad at the chance to have some friends over and to unwind with the bounties of my bar (up to 85 bottles of assorted liquors now) and the pleasures of good company. Little did I know of the tragedy that would soon befall me... So I preppd the apartment, got a few lovely snacks, even a seedless watermelon half to marinate in alcohols as an interesting refreshment option.
People came, all was going well, and then I went to slice more watermelon. With a smile and laugh I continued on in idle chatter while holding down the watermelong to slice, only to have the luscious fruit juices on the plate decrease the surface friction to such a degree that the melon (perhaps in some vegetable attempt at escape) spun and slid from beneath my fingers. With the unexpected twist the force of my cut was altered tragically toward the lateral and my unsuspecting thumb.
With shock and amazement I uttered a hearty "Fuck."
Care and concern writ large on their faces my friends, they chorused "Are you alright?" With a calm belying the speed with which I bled and the irritation at the savage interruption of my hosting I started telling my distressed friends to get me ice, a sober driver, my wallet (and that all important insurance card), and a bottle of cool water to help stave off shock.
So, one hour and some patience later I received for all my hard efforts a wonderful badge of accomplishment for the evening (or at least I will have done once the scarring settles and the stitches are out) and a veritable smorgasboard of fun in this lovely story.
crazygrrl:
Yikes!! How many stitches are we talking here?