Bloody Stairs and La Plays Grey’s Anatomy

It had been a while since our last 5 points visit and on this particular night we had a large crowd in the favorite hang out spot of Chubby’s, formerly known as Marks. The crowd included Jenn, Shanna, Leslie, Julien, Simons and a few other stragglers.

For some reason this particular night we had a reason or maybe just a need to consume as much alcohol as possible. We hefted alcohol into our system hand over fist with shots, beer and liquor drinks.

Somehow we all scattered at last call. We had clearly all drank enough for the need of a crappy hour was dissolved without conversation. After a cramped car ride home and a quick dash to the bathroom I passed out wearing my smoke covered clothes.

My body had not fully relaxed in bed, and yes I was passed out, by the time my phone rang. It was Leslie. I gave serious thought to not answering the phone as whatever was going on outside of my bedroom lacked importance at this given time. I answered the phone anyway to find a highly upset and crying girl. When I say highly upset I mean that she was crying at a rate in which she could not speak. In the three or so years I have known this girl I have seen her cry, ummm… once. Even with this astounding revelation I passed out filing the conversation as nonsense and went back to sleep.

Me – What!

Leslie – (whimpering)

Me – What is wrong?

Leslie – (more whimpering)

Me – What is wrong with you?

Leslie – I feel down the stairs, and…and (more whimpering)

Me – And? (My tone at this point was still pretty harsh)

Leslie – more whimpering… and I’m bleeding.

Me – Bleeding from where?

Leslie – My head.

Me - Call La. (click) zzz…

One eye had closed and the other was about half way before the phone rang again almost buzzing off the nightstand. The conversation with Leslie this time did not reveal any new information except for the fact that she could not get in touch with La. At this point I heard the urgency in her voice and told her that I would drive to her house and rectify the situation. I called La shortly after and informed her to have her ass at Leslie’s as well. I believe that La was upset at a failed attempt to hook up with Simons. Later I found out that she was driven home in the back seat with Simons and when arriving at home slammed the car door because Simons would not follow her in. This is a different side story.

As I got into my company car, mind you. I said a few words to God. “Lord I am completely aware that there is no good situation where I should be this drunk and driving a car, but I am going to help someone in need. Please don’t screw me. Thanks.”

After safely making it to Leslie’s, she opened the front door. She was wearing what used to be a white tank top and shorts. Tears were streaming down her face and I had never seen her close to this upset before. I walked inside still not fully understanding the urgency when I noticed blood on the parquet floors, carpet and stairs. Not an enormous amount, but enough to raise suspicion. I asked if she felt woozy, she replied yes. Alcohol or loss of blood who knows. I told her that she should head upstairs and lay down. I made sure to walk behind her so that another incident did not follow. When she turned for the stairs, it him.

This girl has fucked herself up. Blood is running down her shirt, her hair is clogged together looks as if only a small patch of strands had been dipped in markers mark wax. Oh my lord. The following is my thought process.

Instructions for Leslie: 1. Make it up the stairs. 2. Where is a towel? 3. Hold this towel on the back of your head because I’m not touching you. 4. Ambulance. 5. Ambulance. 6. Ambulance. 7. Oh shit, I saw this episode of cops where I get arrested because they think I pushed this bitch down the stairs. 8. Where the hell is La? 9. I need to leave immediately.

911: What is your emergency Sir?

Me: Ugh, Ugh This girl I don’t know fell down the stairs and hit her head. She may have a concussion. Do I have to be here when the paramedics arrive and are you sending police?

La shows up way drunker than I am. Kristin has the flu and looks as if death is slowing creeping in to snatch her soul. She is also complaining that she must go back to sleep and can not be bothered with this situation. I wanted to hurt her but the paramedics were arriving.

I stayed downstairs and waited for them to begin the questioning. Has she been drinking? Were you here when she fell? What were you doing? None of the questioning results in my arrest. This was the only winning factor of the night.

I saw the stretcher come in and slide up the stairs. I knew the night wasn’t going to get any better.

La bee bops downstairs and says she is fine but we need to have her checked out. We ask to ride in the ambulance as we clearly cannot drive. The EMT asks have you two been drinking. Yes clearly I am wasted. The ambulance drives away and La and I look to one another. How the hell are we going to get to the hospital? We cant leave her there all night. I know we can smoke a cigarette and then you will be fine to drive. That makes perfect sense.

We get in the car and head to Richland hospital. Fortunately I am not familiar with the names of hospitals in Columbia. So I headed to the main hospital that I know, which is Baptist, right down town. We drive up to the ER drop off and the security officer asks if I am bringing La into the ER room. We explain that there is someone inside we know and need to visit. After the bewildered looks of the receptionist we enter back into the car and head to the next known location of hospitals. Providence. This was much more sketchy as we ended up wondering the halls which turned out to be a ghost town and a good thing because no one was there to give us eat shit looks, you drunk bastards.

We finally made it to the correct hospital. We approach the front entry and noticed a gaggle of niggers standing next to reception. That should be about right, we are in Columbia. After swiftly averting the madness we were on our way to her room.

Side story: The gaggle near reception was berating a Columbia police officer for arresting a person who we later found out had been beaten over the head with a foreign objecting gushing blood and creating a hole in his skull. Awesome.

We found Leslie lying on a bed in a room to herself. Writhing in pain and wanting to pull her neck brace away. After hours of waiting the doctor came in and examined her explaining that stitches or staples would be need to close the wound. After the procedure was completed we still had to await the release papers. I strongly believe that they made us all wait in the ER because they knew we were all wasted and wanted us to remember this evening so that future ER visits would be averted.

On several occasions through the night La and I left the private room, so that the procedure could be done or so that some privacy could be had. La wondered around the hospital trying to find the locker room of the doctors, or stumble upon a doctor who would take her into the back room as if she were a Grey’s Anatomy star. Several references were made to this sitcom as we strode the halls. La sometimes using abandoned wheel chairs as her means of transportation. I had to convince her multiple times not to pass out on the beds in the hallway. This coupled with the many comments from La about how uncomfortable and displeased she was to be in the hospital at this ungodly hour. I kept the selfish bitch comments to myself as much as possible.

Finally Leslie was released from the hospital and we exited to the parking lot only to find that my car had a ticket for improper parking. That reminds me. I still have not paid that ticket. Fuck it.

After several weeks of carrying staples in her head and refusing to drink with us. The staples were removed, but the experience was not forgotten. I took a long time for Leslie to join us for drinks in 5 points. This only meant that she was the designated driver and received calls at 2 am for taxi rides home.

A few months past and Leslie found surprise from her experience. Later she regretted filling in on the surprise of her new found rat tail. The staples closing her wound had not allowed hair to grow in this area and now was beginning to show on rainy and stuffy days. Even to this day you can catch a glimpse of the now elongated rat tail. An ever present reminded of the trip down the stairs.

La Looses Herself

One random Friday night La and Kristin were eager to hit the town. I decided to sit this one out and have a quiet evening after a long week of work. After a movie and dinner I passed out earlier without hearing anything from the 5 points patrons, which usually meant that either the night had ended without anything eventful happening or the world could be spinning out of control.

After a few hours of sleep my phone started to ring non-stop. Nothing good could come of this. Since meeting and hanging out with the new trio I had been named the Shepherd and was on non-stop patrol and guardian duty to keep these dames in touch with reality. Its fair to say that this is not an easy task.

I finally answered the phone, only to find Kristin in a hysterical uproar. She went on to explain that the cops had been pounding at the front door for a few minutes and had shown up with La’s purse and belongings. The reason she didn’t answer the door is because she had no pants on. I can only imagine her now saying to herself, "Where are my pantelones?"

She had to chase the cops down to figure out what they wanted. She was then told that her roommate was missing and that her belongings had been found with a drunk porch sleeper around the corner. The cops abducted Kristin to show her the drunk college kid, who had earlier been with La. Kristin had no idea who this person was or why he had La’s belongings. I do no have to interject why La would have been with this younger gentleman, insert your own comment. The porch sleeper was then sent to the lockup in his patty wagon ride.

Kristin told the cops that she had been with La earlier in the night and left her in the bar with several potential hook up buddies, namely Brett a regular at PSH. After grilling Kristin and getting Brett’s name and phone number, from La’s phone, Kristin was returned to PSH by the cops whilst the cops called to harrass Brett about the whereabouts of La.

By this time I had been summoned to save the day. My first action was to call Leslie to see if La had stumbled to her place. No luck. My phone call however did inspire Leslie to meet me at PSH after I specifically told her that my first thought was that La was lying in a ditch somewhere miles from 5 points with no phone or purse.

Leslie, Kristin and I arranged out meetings of the minds on the front porch of PSH. This had been the impromptu home base for locating the lost La. We could not call her cell phone, as we already had it, nor could we retrace the steps she took home as the poor lost sheep was left alone in 5 points. We called her hook up buddy Brett and found she had not gone home with him. The night would have been much easier if she had.

As we smoked cigarettes and pondered her whereabouts, my only conclusion was that she had been raped and murdered in the lustrous metropolis known as Columbia, SC. We were dumbfounded. The cops had given up and returned her belongings and cast the lost girl off as some drunken slut. My lack of sleep and knowing La, didn’t leave my determination for off.

After a few minutes I got up to go to the bathroom. After relieving myself I decided to check La’s bedroom. I opened the door to find a pair of purple panties and white shirt lying ass up in the bed. That’s right the drunken slut was lying face down in her own bed sound asleep while the three of us had woken up at 6am to search the earth for her missing ass. I calmly walked outside and asked Kristin if she had even bothered to check if La was passed out in her own bed. As innocently as possible she replied, no.

An Update to the Cast of Characters

It’s been a while since the blog has been updated. There have definitely been a few people added to the mix which have contributed to the Sunday conversations and story telling. To bring you up to date there is a list with there descriptions below.

First to come along was an unruly duo first mentioned in an earlier blog. Since the Tennessee, Carolina game I have become good friends with La and Leslie. The first encounter with this pair was disastrous, people falling down stadiums, pouring kaluha into perfectly good hot chocolate and then setting the tailgate chair on fire. How I came to be friends with these people I have no idea. I think maybe because all of my other friends left town.

Following the introduction to these two, La lived with several other women at what they called PSH. (Princeton Street House) This house was at every waking moment a disaster but filled with women. Who could resist. At the time living in the home was Soss, an ex-girlfriend...weird, Mandi a short but spritely person, and Propst. Shortly there after Propst left the house to become an adult in the world as living in this home meant that you were permantly stuck in a world half way between college and your first job. After she moved out of the home Kristin, a friend of La's from Spartanburg who had recently graduated Law School at USC, moved into the house. Insanity, confusion, and loss of dignity would follow as the new characters began to hang out.

La is known as the girl who losses things, such as her phone, her purse, cigarettes, but most of all her dignity. She has also been known to loss herself. She is very bright just has absolutely no common sense whatsoever.

Leslie has already been coined as the dumbass who fell down the stadium and set a chair on fire, but those stories seem to pale in the shadow of future happenings. She was also named the gremlin in previous posts.

Kristin is very hard to describe. She is a lawyer who loves to argue and will drink a bottle of wine at the drop of a hat. After a few encounters with this one I found out that her past involves stealing cars and boyfriends, belonging to the same person, and a self proclaim multiple personality disorder. This cant be real, as Kristin can name her alter egos, Tracy Buffy and Patsy. One of them only comes out after drinking liquor, one of them allows her to hook up with random dudes, and the other is for cussing out people during intense arguments and hitting the dance floor. This is obviously a farce or just an excuse so that Kristin has someone to blame after she willingly looses her dignity the night before.

There are other characters which will arise through future blogging, but these are the important new additions. They have self proclaimed me as their Shepherd and them as my flock of sheep. Depending on the night, or day (if drinking) they vary in color from black to white. Black meaning whorish tendencies are running through their minds, and white meaning they are being deceitful and trying to get me into trouble.