The Mad Poller What Polls at Midnight (maeincarnate) wrote,
The Mad Poller What Polls at Midnight

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Rule #1: You Do Not Talk About Fight Club

Through no one else's fault but my own, I fell down on Saturday night. While at a carnivalistic party, after having drank odious proportions of alcohol, I fell up a few stairs. My justificaiton for this is that the first step was shorter than the rest, thus jarring my already limited sense of balance. This is embarassing in and of itself, but I managed to fall against the exterior brick wall of the house, scraping the length of my forearm and gauging holes in my knuckles. I was immediately laughed at, and while I wached the blood well up on my hand, I begged to be cut a little slack since I was legitimately hurt. But this brought no respite from the ridicule. Fortunately, I was at the point of the evening when I could not feel pain, so all was well. I also had the presence of mind ot take an Advil before I went to bed. All in all, I think I handled the situation well.

The point of that seemingly unnecessary exposition is that since that night, I have been walking around with a large scab across my right forearm and three on my knuckles. Two people have commented upon it, VJ and Sara, friends that I went to lunch with. The people at work have said nothing. Granted, they don't often say much to me, but even those who I am more social with have looked, noticed me noticing them noticing, and then looked away. No one has asked me what happened.

It makes me wonder what they think I got into this weekend that is so twisted that they don't even want to bring it up.

I remember something being said about this very phenomenon in Fight Club.

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