So im working today, merrily merrily. An order comes in, ham and chips and an all day breakfast. I get the bag of chips (fries) and go to shake them down into the thing, the plunging thing made of wire mesh whatever the fuck its called. Only, the bag of steak fries is open further down the side than i expected. Enough chips fall out straight into the deep fat fryer to instigate a projectile moment of shit bad pain and rising confusion, fucking vegetable oil cooking at 190F splashes the fuck into my right eye. This is my good eye.
A moment of blinding pain and im wheeling away like some hacking and craven Igor character with the eye now clenched tight, desperately trying not to be experiencing this moment. Ive dropped the fries, bag and all, into the fryer where there is now a fierce babble of plastic and potato which is not helping the mind that is spazzing out trying to find the *solution* to potential blindness and lots of pain.
I manage to sort out some water, splashing my face and such and checking if i can still see with it. I can. I briefly conclude that it is because i have such a powerful mind and that my third eye operates out of my right so it is impervious. I am well aware i am an idiot. In the car on the way to hospital (no not driving) i decide it would not be so bad if i lost sight, Zatoichi after all is a pretty awesome movie...
Where was i? Oh yeah, so i run about to the main bathroom as i decide in this fluster of agony that 'I NEED A BIGGER SINK!' and stride past my boss, who is only my semi-boss by warrant of a business degree and is 2 years younger than me at 21 and is only in charge while our landlady (pub) is away. He goes what the fuck have you done? (pleasantly) I reply what i have done. He thinks maybe the hospital is in order. I realise this is probably a good idea, despite my strange misgivings. (cant be bothered for an inexplicably retarded reason)
UK shroomerites will like this: in and out of an NHS hospital in half an hour. Fucking star treatment from start to finish, save the hag at reception. Priority all the way. Crazy Indian heritage doctor after the nurse, does a little snake charmer dance as he inspects the trauma, tells me i have 'freaky eyes', then laughs and says he is just kidding. Anaesthetizes the eye with drops, cleans it up. Anaesthetic runs down from the eye drops to the trauma and into the side of my mouth. I dribble all down myself as i smoke a rollie out the window of my friends car. I also dribble on the car and slur words and start asking her if she would puke if i started describing intimately the qualities of excrement. Fuck knows what is wrong with me, any excuse it would seem to disengage the more propritous brain.
So that was my day, at its peak of 'excitement'. I am glad i can still see.
The eye is as itchy as fuck. Not sore though i look forward to the anaesthetic wearing off...
Anyone else done this sort of shit to themselves? Maybe tripping? One of the weird things about this was the sense of 'trip-time' or awareness similar to tripping that was always present, amplified by the stress of it. Nightmare/interesting...
Peace all
-------------------- read books
Edited by Jackenobi (10/30/06 10:50 AM)
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