Isn't that the boy who got first aid in 7/11 last night?

Last Saturday, my friends Jessica, Becca, and I decided to stay in and have a relaxed wine night. Jessica's friend, Katie showed up, with a bottle of Grey Goose and since I wasn't really enjoying the $5 bottle of wine I decided to take some shots. The lasts thing I remember is thinking, "wow, my tolerance has really improved, I've done a lot of these and feel nothing..."

Next thing I know, I'm waking up in my bed the next morning with a gaping wound on my hand, cuts on both knees and my shin, and blood soaked sheets. This seemed a little bizarre given that I'd stayed in, but honestly not all that surprising if you actually know me, and I just figured I should keep an eye open for broken glass around my apartment. It wasn't until later that day in Whole Foods when I noticed someone pointing me out to her friend and saying "I think that's the boy who got first aid in 7/11 last night!" Needless to say I made a phone call to Jessica...

So here's how it actually went down. We ran out of vodka, not surprising at the rate I was going, and I demanded that we go finish off the night at Hundo. I seemed to be fine at this point so Katie and Jessica agreed to go with me, and we walked over. No sooner did we arrive at Hundo, than I suddenly brought a wrath down upon Evanston, the likes of which its probably never seen.

As we walked up to the bar, I noticed an acquaintance, Anne, who for no particular reason I decided to shit on that night, by literally screaming out my hatred for her (bare in mind that I barely know this person and have no strong feelings either way about her)... Mid rant, I slipped on a sheet of ice (I'm sorry but the Evanston sidewalks are lethally icey) and completely wiped out, basically at the feet of the bouncer who, shockingly, refused me entrance. Poor Anne tried to cover for me by saying that she accidentally tripped me, at which point I started screaming at her again for tripping me, as Jessica and Katie watched in abject horror. I then proceeded to scurry into the bar, in the hopes that the bouncer wouldn't notice. He did. As he forcibly dragged me out of the bar, back to my friends they realized that I was bleeding profusely from my hand and decided it was probably a good time to leave.

The problem now was how petite girls were going manage to get drunken, belligerent, and now profusely bleeding, me home. Jessica spotted a friend of hers, Jose, who let us bum a cab ride with him since we didn't have any cash. At this point it became clear that I probably needed some sort of medical assistance as my arm was completely drenched in blood and it was dripping off of me. Jose offered to drop us at 7/11 and give us money for another cab back to my building which was really nice considering, I kept calling him Michael Jackson (apparently a reference to his terrible nose job) in the cab and also managed to mortally offend our cab driver with my drunken ebonics, to the point where Jessica had to actually apologize to him. I fell two more times between exiting the cab and entering 7/11, thus explaining my other wounds, but apparently my mood picked up once we got to 7/11.

Once in the store I proceeded to dance around the aisles, flailing my arms. If not for the blood literally splattering off of my finger tips, the faces of concerned patrons, and my yelling "don't worry, I don't have any diseases" you probably wouldn't have known anything was wrong with me. Jessica and Katie did their best to calm me down but didn't really have much luck until I collapsed in the back of the store. Jessica began sobbing, terrified of all the blood, and that they'd have to bring me to the hospital, so Katie (a girl I really had just met that night mind you) tried to carry/drag me, dripping blood through the aisles to find band aids. Once we got to the counter, the woman at the register was so concerned that she helped Katie hold me down, whipped out their first aid kid, and cleaned out my wounds.

My wounds now clean, though still bleeding profusely through their bandages, Jessica and Katie decided it was time to brave the cab ride home. Shockingly, the cab driver was put off by Jessica's sobbing and running make up and my excessive bleeding and tried to refuse us service. Luckily we have issues with authority, and I was too drunk to care, so we got in anyways. Apparently I was much better behaved this cab ride, but Jessica and Katie ran into some trouble when we arrived at my building and the cabbie noticed that I had stained the seat really badly with blood. They tried to convince him it was only water, and he obviously wasn't buying it and made them try and clean it out. Meanwhile, not being one for cleaning, I climbed out of the cab and lay down and began writhing and screaming on the sidewalk.

As I lay on the sidewalk, kicking and screaming like a 3 year old, Brady, a reserved and staunchly conservative southern gentleman type, that I have worked with on a few group projects in the past, walked by on a date (it was probably only about 1:30 am at this point, as we'd started drinking wine at 8). He offered his salutations and I yelled something back, probably sounding like a feral child. Then, seeing that Katie and Jessica (and by Katie and Jessica, I mean just Katie, the girl I literally had just met, since Jessica would not go near me on account of all the blood) were struggling to get my bleeding, screaming carcass off of the pavement, Brady took a detour from his date to do the chivalrous thing and help them lug me inside. Not only inside, but up the elevator where my potty mouth resurfaced, offending an older Indian couple that got out of the elevator rather than ride up with me, then into my apartment, and into bed. Apparently Brady's date was no help at all... bitch.

From there, Jessica and Katie cleaned me up, re-bandaged me, soaked my blood stained clothes in the sink and got me into bed where I awoke in my confused and disoriented state the next morning, oblivious to the events that had transpired the night before, until I got called out in Whole Foods as the boy who got first aid in 7/11 the previous night... Sorry for offending most of the civilized world... sorry for bleeding on people.. sorry for date-crashing... pissed about the fucking wounds all over my body...and sorta sorry for partying....

- Anonymous
Evanston, IL