(2003 to 2005)

I doubt it's *really* broken. But damn it hurts..

Sun Jun 13 03:25:00 UTC+1000 2004


So, anyone who actually reads this blog (and I know some people do for some bizarre twisted reason probably best kept to yourself) might have been a little confused about the last scatter of posts that appeared here.

Now, I know better than trying to 'make things better' by 'saying something', because experience has shown that the best way for me to dig a hole for myself is to 'open my mouth'. I do think though, that I have an affinity for holes.. :)

Anyway, I went out on Friday night. Caught up with a bunch of mates. Got far too drunk. I vaguely recall 'demonstrating my badarseness' by drinking 3 shots of vodka in rapid succession at one point. I have no idea how many beers I had, but I do know that it came in pints and that I wanted one.

Eventually, everyone went home. It's funny how when you're drunk you kind of know that you are but you don't take the time to 'reflect on this fact', until the next day when you're staring at a toilet bowl, promising that you will NEVER DRINK AGAIN.

The point of this post is just really to tell the tale of the tragic end of my night, because it bothers me.

I can't recall behaving improperly. I know I was hammered, but I'm pretty sure (as sure as one can be) that I wasn't acting up. As far as I could tell, I was just sort of keeping to myself. I got denied entry to one place, so I guess that it must have been blatantly obvious that I was hammered.

I ended up going to some pub. I'm not sure what the place was called. But when we went in we had to pay five bucks. Five bucks tends to point to the place as being 'good enough to get away with a cover charge', but 'not good enough to charge more than five bucks'. Which I guess makes it 'just some dive that you end up at', but I'm not sure. So, that's where I was.

I went to the bathroom briefly, then came out to the main area, and sort of stood around. I don't think I was doing anything outlandish, but I may have made the tragic mistake of *attempting* to dance. I know that at least, I was *considering* it. For some reason, a bouncer came up and grabbed me and then marched me down the stairs. I have no idea what prompted that, but that's what happened. I'm guessing that I just *looked* drunk, and I have a tendency to look out of place at the best of times, it's kind of just a little knack that I've picked up over my life, probably best reflected in my complete inability to wear *appropriate* attire.

So, after having been charged five dollars for entry, I'd been in the place for five minutes and then been ejected.

I know better than to fight it when you're getting thrown out. I always just leave peacefully (these days), except on this particular occasion I felt hardly done by, given that only minutes ago I'd paid to enter the place, and hadn't even had a drink yet.

When I got to the bottom of the stairs I asked the lady at the till for my five dollars back.

She looked at me with a hateful, bothered look on her face and barked off-handedly that this particular establishment “didn't give refunds”.

Of course, I felt like arguing the point, so I pointed out the injustice in taking my money and then kicking me out all within a few minutes. Clearly, that wasn't fair.

The bouncers that were behind me were jostling me to the door, and a few extra ones came in from outside, so there was 3 or 4 or them around me. They weren't taking themselves too seriously yet, I guess because I was mostly co-operating. The chick at the till though evidently didn't want to have a bar of conversation about how she should give me my money back and the guys started pushing harder.

I just walked into the corner and *demanded* that they give me my five bucks back. Of course, I don't really care about five bucks, but I did (and still do) care about the *principle* of the matter. The bouncers realised that I wasn't going to make their lives easy, so one (or two?) of them grabbed me and ran me through the door.

They were much bigger than me, so even if I had have tried to push back sheer physics would have allowed them to move me to the door. So, I enlisted the building in my service and grabbed a hold of the door handle. I knew they could push all they liked, but if I held on the to handle then they wouldn't make any progress, short of moving the entire building with them. Fortunately, I have a relatively decent grip, they tested it for a few seconds and eventually realised that they weren't going to be able to push me while I was holding the door.

One of them was pushing me out the door, and another walked behind him and grabbed my thumb that was still functioning in its role as a handle holder. As it were, based on the relative position of everyone's bodies, I was pretty much face to face with the guy who grabbed my thumb.

We exchanged looks. Mine said “if you snap my thumb you are a cunt”, and his said “I am a cunt”.

During our meaningful and significant 'look' I heard a 'click' and felt the corresponding rush of pain as he snapped my thumb. At that point his method of causing my release of the handle was successful, and the guy who had been pushing me charged me across the pavement into a telegraph pole.

I was still pretty interested in the guy who'd snapped my thumb, and I stared at him the whole time. He was obviously a CUNT, and he knew it. I was pretty interested in letting him know that I also knew this, although it seemed that I wasn't being given such an opportunity.

I was in a cab and on my way home in the next minute or two after I got pushed down the footpath and away.

Until then, I'd actually had a relatively decent night, but having my thumb intentionally snapped by a thug who was part of a *conspiracy* to rob me of five dollars really pissed me off.

Of course, now I'm sitting safe and sound in my room, telling random internet people about my ordeal.

My thumb still hurts.



Copyright © 2003-2005 John Elliot