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.
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.
posted by Pun at 5/19/2009 03:39:00 PM
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