The day was Thursday, and I was innocently browsing the internet in one of my EET classes, when I got a Gmail notification of an Email from USPS... so me being me, I clicked on it thinking "YES, it's on mah doorstep!" And of course, "it" referring to the Timmah that I currently own (
http://www.*******s.com/f2f4/ ). But sadly, and to the dismay of the rest of my class (I grunted very loudly with a few dissatisfied and very choice words here and there), it was a notice that simply informed me that the largely overweight post-lady around here had tried to deliver my package, but since nobody was at the door to answer and sign, it was now being held at the central Post Office in Columbus. Not too big of a problem, since when I got my ride after class was over, I could just swing by and claim my new victim. Err, I mean 'gat.
My class was out pretty early at 5 PM, and the Post office was a mere 35 minutes away! So I figured I'd make it there with time to spare... But it was not to be, not yet at least. We arrived at the building ~5:45, only for it to be closed...
SINCE WHEN IN THE HELL DOES A POST OFFICE CLOSE AT 4 PM?!?!?! How do they expect people to pick up their junk on the way home from work if they're closed BEFORE SAID PEOPLE EVEN GET OUT?!?
So anyway, I came home, made some random pissed-off posts on PBR/N/X, and called it a night.
Next day I didn't have classes (thank God...ness), so I called them (the bureaucratic organization known as a "Post Office"... should be called a "wait desk") at 8 in the morning, and in a fake polite voice asked if the package could be redelivered today, etc, etc. And to say that I camped in front of my porch is a
major understatement! I had a portable TV, walkman, latest issue of Facefull, the works. But of course, since my luck inhales vigorously, the mail-lady came, waved, almost got tackled, gave me a stack of mail, and went on her merry way. And of course, with no friggin' package for me. Teh yay.
So once again, I got on the phone to wail my sorry story. But not to the Post Office, no. This required much more drastic action. This required someone with power, the power to plow through all obstacles like a supercharged battle cruiser with a herniated driver behind the helm. Something that would also involve massive carnage and death, and to make those people PAY FOR WHAT THEY DID!
I called my Mother at work.
So she left immediately (it was 3:45 by now, so it would be a close call), kicked open the door I'm assuming, and ran in and got my package. She then called me via cell on the way back to notify me of her strategic victory, which elated me very much. Then she decided to stop by Kohl's and Kroger on the way home... which with all women, is like porn for us guys. So I figured I'd be waiting for at least another 5 hours, and went in the basement and watched some TV...
...And dozed off...
I awoke to the sound of groceries being set on the table upstairs. By the sound of it, it sounded like more frozen lasagna and Michelina's TV dinnahs. Stumbled upstairs, asked what was for dinner... Then suddenly everythinghitmefullforcelikea FREIGHT TRAIN! I jumped up, and asked about my package. She looked at me weird for a minute, then slowly pointed at the garage while looking at a patty of ground beef on the counter and said "Passenger seat".
So I ran upstairs, got my knife (Smith and Wesson 2k3 model, VERY nice, use it to shave on camp-outs for those wondering how sharp it is... and yes, it gives a good shave.), and sprinted out to the garage, opened car door, grabbed out package, slammed door shut... and... stupidly balanced the package between my knee and the table whicl slashing at the edges of it with my knife. I should probably mention, the package consisted of more duct tape then cardboard.
Then the fatefull moment came.
On the third cut, as I was going parallel to my chest on the far side (not cutting toward me, but not away), the blade got stuck in the tape, sudenly came free, and the knife flew out of my hand and toward my chest. After striking me, it fell to the ground, where I bent over to pick it up. As I did so, I noticed a hole in my shirt... So I figured, "Crap, it ruined my shirt. Hmm, I had better check to see if it scratched me..."
As I lifted up my shirt, I was greeted by a rather large hole in my chest, pumping oodles of blood out. How did I not feel this?!? Anyway, I cupped my wound in my hand in a craptacular effort to hold my blood and various other internals inside (thankfully the ribcage did its job), stumbled inside, and quietly asked where the paper towells were...
On the way to the hospital (not the emergency room, as those are WAY too expensive, and I very politely told my Mother that I *would* in fact survive all this), I called Sean (Everlight) and let him know that I might be a *couple* hours late to the party tonight, and vaguely explained what had/was happening. So I arrived at the hospital, was giggled at by a couple nurses (what the hell, I'm bleeding!), and proceded to have the wound cleaned out while under a liberal dose of what seemed to be morphine in a gelatin form. Oh hellz yeah. Other events that happened there included receiving 5 stitches, meds, extra Tetnus shot, and lots of paperwork. On an interesting note, the doctor asked me what knife I had. When I inquired why, he said that "It's the cleanest deep cut I've ever seen, almost as if it was done by a scalpel!". I guess that explains why I only got 5 stitches, and why the stabbing part itself didn't hurt at all (sharp blades = less pain?)
The wound itself is around 2/3" wide, and ~1" deep. Doesn't sound bad, but I'm very lean, so there is no layer of blubber or anything to absorb that up. Just went straight into the ribcage, nicking the ribs (the cut itself is in a parallel direction to the ribs, and entered perfectly perpendicular to my chest).
After that was said and done, I headed off to Sean's house, for a night of partying/gaming/movies/wannabe binge drinking (Mountain Dew, sillies).
As a side note, I like the 'Timmy a lot. It certainly makes a great addition to my Proto.
Questions, comments, stories of your own, attempts at funny jokes, whatever. Feel free to post 'em all.
*whew*
So, apparently, you CAN almost die from excitement... *stabbing story*
Its good to hear that you are okay and the Timmy was in now way hurt.
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