It's hot and sticky and no one wants to get out of the pool. The start of third year is days away and a sort of drunken melancholy permeates our carefree life as we realize that college is half over. It's all down hill from here, we joke. I'm days away from my 20th birthday and nostalgia overtakes me as I realize I'm leaving my teen years behind. The real world is bearing down on me and responsibility is looming with the start of the school year.
We go to the University bookstore and stock up on overpriced spiral notebooks with UVA written in gold letters on the orange card stock cover. We hit up the Clinique counter and grab some flip flops before heading to the check out where we put the whole purchase on Mommy and Daddy's credit card. We sit around and play would you rather, wasting time and avoiding reality. "Would you rather have a wooden leg or a hook for an arm?" We all agree on wooden leg though admittedly it would be easy to barbecue with a hook for an arm. Kebabs would be a cinch!
We are planning a big night out for the evening before the start of classes. Drink away our sorrows and ignore the start of our third year. We start at Maty's. My upstairs neighbor and best friend. She lives with three other best friends and our two apartments are essentially communal living. I eat more of their food than I do my own (this is largely because I refuse to buy anything that is unhealthy and refuse to eat anything healthy).
Maty has been working at Buffalo Wild Wings all summer. BW3's as we call it, is not the classiest establishment around. In the idyllic college town that is Charlottesville there exists a dichotomy in population. There are the students and university professors; wealthy and preppy and all things pastel and ribbons. The kids coming from Virginia, the Northeast and the south sport their popped collars and boat shoes like they are modeling for LL Bean. Outside this bubble of Lilly Pulitzer and J.Crew exists the rest of the world. The student ghetto borders the actual ghetto. Bums meander around the streets of students looking for stale beer sitting in cups left over from the night before on the front porch. Men missing teeth deliver the late night pizza. BW3's attracts less of the college crowd and more of the local crowd. It had flavor to put it mildly. Maty has known to mingle with the obese black bouncer Antwon, or the mullet sporting bartender from time to time. Essentially, she is a tad on the sketchy.
The night before classes rolls around and we pregame, hard. We head out to bars and things begin to unravel almost immediately. Some want to go to Orbitz, some want to go to Coupes. The group splits. I head to Coupes with Maustin and Mmelissa. Maty goes to Orbitz with Mmeg and Maura. More drinking ensues. We gulp down bourbon and diets like they are water in the desert. We are drunk. My phone rings over and over again. I don't answer it because I don't hear it and I don't care. We leave Coupes to find food or friends or something along those lines.
Finally I look at my phone. I have about twenty missed calls from Maty. This is not unusual. Maty begins her evenings exclaiming her love for everything and everyone she knows. "I love you forever lets be best friends until we die!" might be something she says while pregaming. By the end of the night however its a different story. Over the course of three hours she turns into a mess of hate and wickedness. "I hate you, never speak to me again." Is the sort of thing she tell you only hours after calling you to be her bestest friend. Knowing this propensity for violent mood swings I am not surprised to see Maty called me repeatedly and I have no doubt that her messages are a string of love/hate proclamations.
My phone rings again. Feeling slightly bad for ignoring my best friend I answer. Snippets of wailing screams are audible and then the phone cuts out. While this is also not unusual I begin to worry. Three more times Maty calls crying and then gets cut off before she tells me what is wrong. Finally I get a call from Maty's roommate, Maura. She says we need to go to the hospital, that Maty is there.
Holy shit. I know she is alive as I've heard her distinctive cry on the phone but the hospital is NOT good. Maura picks us up and along with Mmelissa we head to the hospital. We attempt to sober up, that fails. We arrive at the hospital and head to the emergency room. We inquire about Maty and are instructed to wait in the chairs section. We then come across a strange sight. A boy, whom we know, is laying face down, spread eagle, sleeping in the middle of the waiting area. We try and rouse him, calling his name and pinching his cheeks. It doesn't work. Coincidence we think. Ten minutes later nurse comes out. She ask us if one of our names is Mephanie. I tell them that's me. They bring me back.
I walk into a room and Maty is lying, convulsing on a bed. She is covered in a sheet that is pulled up to her chin. Shit. I quickly conclude that the lower half of her body has been amputated. She has no legs. Maybe no torso. I will have to carry her head around in one of those weird bags meant for small dogs. When we go out to dinner I'll have to feed things to her. I'll probably have to take notes for her in class.
"Mephanie," she wails. Her face is red and blotchy and her make up is smeared all over. Her hair looks like birds are nesting in it. "Mephanie. My finger got cut off at Orbitz, you have to make someone go get it." She rips off the sheet and I see that the tip of her finger is missing and bleeding profusely. I stifle laughter. Her limbs are otherwise fine. I will not have to carry her in a hang bag. I comfort her and she cries. Then the nurse comes in to give her more pain medication.
I go into the waiting room and let our other friends know that A. Maty will survive and B. one of them needs to go fetch her finger tip at the bar. They laugh and refuse. I return to Maty. The doctor is now in with her. He is on the young side and really good looking. Maty is still wearing the tank top and jean skirt she went out in. She is not wearing underwear, her skirt is short and her legs are flailing. This is not good. She is trying to smile at the doctor as he explains that the whole finger isn't missing; its just large chunks of nail and skin. She nods eagerly.
"Oh Doctor, thank you so much. You are soooo kind!" Maty is trying to flirt with the doctor.
He leaves and I sit down next to her. "Do you think he thinks I'm cute?" Maty's voice is wobbly but hopefull. I can see pretty much her entire croch region.
"Maty, pull your skirt down." I try and help her cover up the goods.
"He's really cute, I wonder if he's married!" Maybe its the painkillers maybe the alcohol we've been drinking all night, Maty is out to lunch. For the next hour she alternates between hysterical crying over her finger and attempting to seduce the doctor. It's kind of funny to watch. Finally the doctor tells us we can leave and gives me all the information for the necessary follow up appointments. Apparently Maty will need finger surgery.
Out in the waiting room our friends are ready for bed. We decide to be good samaritans and pick up the sleeping spread eagle boy, Meff. We load him and Maty in the car and head home. Meff sleeps on the couch and after we change Maty into pajamas and attempt to wash her up, she goes to bed.
The morning hurts, bad. Meff, the boy we found on the hospital floor is gone when we wake up. No one has slept and classes are in full swing. The birds are singing the sun is shining and I'm vomiting on my way to my 9:00 a.m. The day is long and I pretty much want to die, not as much as Maty though. She doesn't remember a lot but what she does remember isn't good. Apparently she slammed her finger in a bathroom door, scraping off all the skin. She starts crying and is freaked out by the profuse amount of blood. She tells our friend Mmeg that she needs to go. Mmeg has met a boy and insists Maty will be fine. Things then get very very hazy. The next thing she knows she's at the hospital and I'm in the room with her. I remind her she tried to hook up with the Doctor, she cringes.
Months later we find out, via Meff's blog, that it was him that took a bleeding crying Maty to the hospital. While waiting he fell asleep. The next thing he knew he was on our couch.
The moral of the story is, don't slam your finger in doors and always wear underwear.
No comments:
Post a Comment