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stella40 -> RE: Stupid Sh!t You've Done To People (6/15/2007 2:58:19 AM)
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A couple of things come to mind.
Many years ago I worked as a nursing auxiliary in a London hospital. I worked on a medical ward and this particular morning was helping a staff nurse prepare the body of someone who had died for the mortuary. The body was prepared and the curtains were pulled round the bed, waiting for the porters to come and take the body away. Now I see the domestic moving down the ward with fresh jugs of water on a trolley, placing a jug at each bedside. So she picks up a jug and slips through the curtains around the dead patient as I sneak up to the curtains, wait till she's putting the jug down by the bedside cabinet, and then I say "Pssst! Thirsty! Thirsty!" in this urgent whisper.
I can still remember this woman's screams even today.
But then there's such a thing as Karma....
A few months later I'm off duty. One afternoon I go to a pub called the Fisherman's Arms in West London, where I meet a friend of mine Ken. Ken was older than me. A biker from Manchester. He just bought a second hand motorbike. By chance he's also got a second crash helmet. So we sit over a pint of beer. Then he offers me a ride on his motorbike, not far, just up to his flat about a quarter of a mile from the pub. So I'm thinking, 'beer, motorbike, Ken...' and I ask him out straight how long he's been at the pub and how many beers he's had. He tells me five pints, but claims he feels okay and reminds me it's not far to his flat. Okay, so I agree.
However while I'm walking out to the car park outside the pub Ken is staggering. I want to back out. Ken wants to ride, so I tell him he can ride on his own. Then he stops and realises, and suggests that I ride the motorbike (something I'd never done before) and he rides pillion. So I look and consider 'out of the car park, turn left into the main road, up the hill and turn left into Ken's street'. Okay, I'm game. He asks me if I've ever ridden a motorbike before, so I lie and tell him I have, but only once or twice.
He offers to help me. Please remember folks, I'm in my early twenties. Ken is in his forties. I get on the bike, Ken gets on behind me, crash helmets on, and I'm there, Easy Rider, you know. The problem was Ken's idea of easing the throttle out gently didn't match my idea. A quick flick of the wrist, and we roar off, out of the pub car park...
..across the road and crash into a terraced house across the road from the pub. The bike hits the wall, and both I and Ken go straight through the window and into the living room. Glass flies everywhere, I land on a coffee table, Ken lands on the sofa. A woman, who was previously sitting in an armchair watching television leaps to her feet and starts screaming. Her husband turns up as this woman starts being hysterical and whacking me and Ken with a rolled up newspaper. Two ambulances are called. The woman, Ken and I are taken to hospital...... the same hospital where I work.
The police come and question me and Ken, the husband didn't want to press charges and somehow both Ken and I received nothing but a caution. But worse was to come. Ken started blaming me for the accident. Worse still, the doctor decided to keep both of us in for a few days for observation - concussion and whiplash injuries. But worse still. The doctor couldn't find any beds available except for two beds, side by side on a medical ward... the medical ward on which I worked.
Cue three of the most embarrassing days of my entire life.
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