Thursday, October 06, 2005

Rollerblading Accident

I have been going through a bunch of my old stories and I figured why not throw them on my blog. So I plan on getting more and more of them out there on my blog. Hopefully you haven't heard all of these before. Some are old and some are new. Here goes.

7-3-05

Monday was the Lake Front Fireworks. Tree, Preston, and Matt came down to Milwaukee for the Fireworks. We prepartied at my place on the Eastside which included just a lot of drinking with a couple of beer bongs mixed in. I had the great idea to drive everyone as close as I could to the lake front, the I was going to drive back towards my place and rollerblade back to meet up with them. I drove them down close to the lake, on the top of the hill by the tennis courts by McKinley Marina and left them with a case a beer and told them to find a good spot to check out the fireworks. Then I turned around and drove my car back to the nearest parking spot which was about two blocks from my house. I strapped on my rollerblades and double timed it back to where I dropped them off. As I got to the top of the hill, I saw all of the people, and I thought to myself "I am never going to find those guys." Fortunately for me my friends are lazy and they were actually right where I dropped them off. We watched the fireworks, and once they were over, somehow I got my hands on some fireworks. I thought it would be a good idea to light them off in the middle of the street. As I was doing so, there was a cop who started yelling at me and walking towards me. Well I figured that was a good time to get out of Dodge so I took off knowing that that cop would never catch me on rollerblades. I got a couple blocks away, and I realized how great it was, because the streets were packed but on rollerblades I was whipping in and out of traffic. I know real safe. I stopped at this one apartment building that seemed like it have a party going on in every apartment. I stayed there for about a half an hour. Then I decided that I should head back for home thinking that Tree, Preston or Matt may have called but they didn't. This was my line of thinking, they probably be at the closest bar, so I rollerbladed down to North Ave. I went into one bar had a drink and I was known as the Rollerblade guy. But I soon left because I wanted to find those guys. I decided to head back for home. At this time, alcohol was starting to effect my rollerbladinabilityty as well as the fact that the streets were becoming uncongested. It wadetermineded in my mind that I should probably get out of the middle of the road and stick to the sidewalks. As I was going down the sidewalk I hit a lip in the concrete where the sidewalk met a bridge. I landed with the full force of my body and my momentum square on my chin. As I got up, I thought to myself, "Wow that really hurt." I was also a bit perplexed how I got these pebbles in my mouth. I got up and went another half a block and I couldn't understand how I was sweating so much. So I wiped under my chin with my forearm......all blood. Not good. I get another half a block and wipe my chin with my other forearm.....again all blood. Really not good. I finally get back before I loose all of my blood. I walk through the door and my roommate, Mark, asks me what happened to me. I still didn't think it was too bad of a cut until I looked in the mirror. I looked like I had two mouths. The gash was about an inch wide. Anyhow there was a message that they are all down at Axel's. I took off my rollerblades, and safely walked to the bar they were at. The first thing Matt said to me was that they had a great story to tell me, but he had a feeling that mine was a bit better. Drank a couple of beers with them and played some fussball but then my chin started to really hurt. So I went back home and I called my parents and told them that I was coming home and had to go to the hospital. I drove home home and the longer I drove the sharper the pain got, and that helped to sober me up quite a bit. By the time I got home home it was around 1 in the morning. I woke my dad up and he must have been in some deep sleep because he was out of it. He had no idea who I was or what I was doing there. I explained to him that I was his son and that I needed to go to the hospital. He still wasn't getting it. I was standing in front of him as he sat on the steps pointing at my chin saying "Look see this blood, I need to go to the hospital." I drove us to the hospital and by the time we got there he finally snapped out of his sleep coma. While they were preparing me for my 12 stitches, the nurse asked me when this happened. I told her 11 o'clock. She said well it is 2 o'clock now. I told her that I had to go to another bar. She was far from impressed and didn't have much sympathy for me. However, the worse part was the next morning, which was the Fourth of July. I woke up and my jaw was incredibly sore, but when I took my first breath of fresh air I realized that what I thought were pebbles in my mouth were actually chips of my teeth, including one tooth that was chipped so bad that the root was exposed. Good thing it was the Fourth of July because all dentists have hours on a holiday. My only course of action was to get drunk again.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

True story.
My favorite part was sitting at Axel's (or Ackwell's, as I call it), drinking a beer with Rickie thinking "dude, you might want to get that taken care of". But it was nice that he decided to share a beer/DNA with us before heading to the ER.
Other subplots that missed the headlines that night: Bubs slyly throwing empty beer bottles into the crowd on the hill during the fireworks. That was a fun one, Bubs. Nothing like sitting and watching fireworks with the family of four only to get showered with Mueller Lite bottles. Cool.
Also, Bubs and I ending up at a gay house party, stealing a silk robe, and singing Van Mo's Brown-Eyed Girl. The crowd loved it even though they probably knew we were breeders.
And finally, me beating Tree in foosball at Rickie's. Tree not excepting defeat very well, proceeded to strip down to his tighty-whiteties and insist we wrestle. Thanks ass. Nothing like being 5'9" and have some drunk 6'4" naked man trying to pin you unexpectedly. Cool. At that point, I just wanted Bubs to hit ME with a bottle.
There you have it, folks.
Matt, aka Scotty.