Friday, October 9, 2009

Beware of people in glass houses

Here at It’s good to mock, we mock people, places and things. There’s a less than famous saying that doesn’t exist which says: “Don’t bother mocking people, places or things, if you’re not prepared to be mocked back by those same people, places and things and stuff”. In the spirit of fair play, I mock myself with the following true story:

The time – A number of years ago.

The place – A place.

The object to be mocked: My left leg and general stupidity.

I’m in a car. It’s raining outside. The car stops. Bill Y gets out. I don’t want to get wet as I run quickly to the house to visit a mate. Did I mention it was raining? Because my eyes are half closed as I run to the house, I don’t notice the glass door entrance to the house until I run into the middle of the glass door. Next I see far too many pieces of glass, hanging out of my left leg which is losing lots of blood. I’ve only experienced genuine shock on a handful of occasions. Once, I thought I’d lost my nephew in a shopping centre and this really terrified me –I found him shortly after in a book shop. Looking at my leg half open, shock visited again. Just before I collapsed, I apologised to my mates Mother for breaking the glass door and managed a wry smile. The fact that I was covered in blood didn't seem to bother me at all. An ambulance driver lived on the road and all of a sudden, I was on the way to the hospital. My mate came with me and I was really weak as I continued losing blood. Because of this, I was nearly drifting off to sleep but my mate was told to make sure this didn’t happen. He kept clattering me and I kept saying ‘My name is Bill Y and I’m an Irish citizen who doesn’t like been slapped”. We arrived at the hospital and a morose, unhappy, sullen nurse took the many pieces of glass from my left leg. They took some x-rays and I was told I would be going straight to theatre for an operation. I asked the nurse to explain what was going to happen and she told me that the doctors were concerned because I had severed tendons and nerves. I went for the operation, had a nice sleep and woke up the next morning. A different nurse introduced herself and told me I had given the staff a good laugh. I told her I couldn’t remember much but I remembered the morose, unhappy, sullen nurse from the previous night. She laughed at this and informed me that I had told this nurse that she scared the bejaysus out of me and I had asked her how such an unhappy looking person, ended up as a nurse. Apparently, I told her she would of been more suited to a job in a slaughterhouse or a morgue, than a hospital. Because of this, her colleagues had been mocking her all night. That morning I realised the power of mocking and have been playing with that power ever since. Bill Y

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