So this one time in college my two best friends and I were preparing for a typical night out. We started at their sorority with what I have to imagine was the world's cheapest vodka and pre-gamed our little hearts out until it was time to leave.
After some time had passed we decided it would be a good time to go, and off we went to the car. Now if you remember from posts past I live in New England. And no good story is also complete without a good New England snowstorm. We had had a decent amount of snow on the ground which meant that it needed to be moved somehow because behind the tires of a little ford focus was a giganta-huge pile of snow. Andddd not only that the car itself was covered in the fluffy white stuff.
Luckily for us we happened to have a couple of shovels in the trunk. So we each took our instrument of choice to help unbury this little car. In order to maintain my balance in the snow I held onto the car quickly, just to get my footing. Well this happened to be at the exact same time my friend decided to close the trunk. And yes, in case you were wondering, the trunk did close right on finger.
Thankfully, due partially to the fact that I had consumed a fairly decent quantity of alcohol and also in part to the angle at which my finger was wedged in there I really didn't feel much of anything but pressure. And I'm not saying that to sound like some big asshole tough guy.. My friends can attest to the fact that I wasn't swearing or screaming or anything of the sort. But I looked up and said "oh my god.. My fingers shut in the trunk". Lindsay (my friend that slammed the trunk on finger) FREAKS out shouting "oh my god, oh my god! I'm so sorry! Oh my god! What do I do?! Oh my god!" In a straight up panic and here I am with my finger in the trunk, cool as a cucumber, while the poor girl thinks she's dismembered me. I look at her ... Tell her to relax and just open the trunk.
After a few more "oh my gods" and "I'm sorrys" the trunk was open. I looked at my middle finger... Examined it closely and... Nothing... Honestly.. It started to sting a bit but it looked completely fine.
Surprised, I just continued to shovel while Lindsay continued to apologize. A couple minutes go by and I noticed the shovel started to feel sticky, I disregarded it at first, assuming my hands must have been sweating but after another minute the stickiness didn't seem to feel like what I'd imagine stickiness from sweat would be like so I looked up and said "why is your shovel sticky?". Being that there was no light in the parking lot I couldn't see what was on the shovel until I managed to bring it into the little light that was available and discovered the stickiness was in fact, my blood. And not just a little blood...like a-scene-from-jaws amount of blood.
My hand, the shovel, and the ground was COVERED in my blood...it had even started pooling at my feet. And yet still... Zero pain.
So the girls insisted I go inside and let one of the girls who was a nursing major take a look at it. A large amount of paper towels, a bathroom sink, and a bandaid later we were off and running.
We finally get to the party, which was a rugby party and we were schmoozing and finally enjoying ourselves. A little later on we decided to take part in a stupid college game called zoomy. If you don't know the game or how it works its fairly irrelevant all you need to know us it involves banging your fists on a table.
The giant rugby guy next to me stops me mid game grabs my arms and proceeds to tell me i'm bleeding everywhere....yep. He was right ....I had bled through the bandaid and it was still dripping out of me...I ended up spending the majority of the night in the bathroom running water in the cut and making a feeble attempt to clot the blood with the giant rugby guy as my medic.
These things...these heinous, outrageous, stupid ass things...I swear they only happen to me.
