Monday, January 09, 2006

The "Incident"

It's time to confess.

Some of you already know about the "Incident", as I like to call it. It's time to let you know the story.

Imgaine, if you will. It's a Wednesday evening, between Christmas and New Years. There's this girl. Let's call her Alice. She's been out for a drink or two with a good friend. And by a drink or two, I mean a bottle of wine or two. Anyhoo, it's super late, she's a bit tipsy and when she gets back to her flat, she realizes she's forgotten her keys.

Now, this girl doesn't panic. She mmight be drunk, but she's on top of the situation. With a daring disregard for the late hour, she buzzes her neighbours and gets them to buzz her into the buidling. They do so.

She gets to her flat door, and thinks carefully. What will she do? She can't get into her flat. Because this girl lives alone, she's thought about this before. What would she do if she lost her keys? She has a backup plan.

Up half a flight of stairs, there is a window. This window is right above the roof above her bathroom, which is a mere hop down to the flat roof that is directly outisde her flat. Simple, yes? So one would think.

Now, I'd like to make it clear that this girl has had this backup plan for ages, and this has been considered while sober. Just so we're clear on that.

Anyway, she goes up the stairs and opens the window and climbs out onto the roof. But oh no! There's a slippery patch! Watch out!!

Oh, no. The girl, she has slipped. And she has fallen.

She was a bit disoriented and spacy and confused, and couldn't figure out how she'd gotten onto the roof. Her neighbours call the paramedics. They get into the flat somehow, probably through the same window/roof combo that the girl was attempting.

She's taken to the hospital in an ambulance. Her glasses are broken. She's a bit bloody.
The emergency doctor at the hospital doesn't want to stitch her up because the cut is one her face and she's so pretty that he doesn't want to sar her. She gets referred to the plastics department in the Royal Free Hospital.

She goes home, and goes to the Royal Free in the morning. She got her appendix out here, so there were good memories.

They stitch her up. She's got one hell of a black eye. And no glasses.

(You may not know this, but the girl has bad, bad, bad eyesight. BAD.)

Her friend, of the drunken night out, comes to meet her and helps her to pick up a new pair of glasses. Which is a good thing, in the end, because she needed new glasses and has been too lazy to get them.

So, her headaches are pretty much gone. And her stitches are out. She's going to have a scar. She's still a bit swollen. Her black eye is gone, pretty much.

She's going back to work tomorrow. Let the laughter begin, my friends. Let the laughter begin.

Well, at least she didn't fall off a ladder when trying to change a lightbulb, as many of you were worried would happen.

(That light went out again. A different story though. Alexcia can confirm that it wasn't as dangerous as it looked.)

So, that's the "Incident". And now let us never speak of it again.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I admire your honesty Alice. Me, I'd have kept it to myself and then claimed to have been in a fight if anyone ever asked about a scar.

Brad

Bette O'Callaghan said...

Any photos darlin'? This is the sort of incident that screams out for a photo. xx