How NOT to cut stuff

(Circa 1991)

OK, this happened when I was about 21/22 and I have my first real car, a Caspian Blue Ford Fiesta XR2 (Mark2) and it was a real piece of Sh*t! (I have a number of tales to tell about this car so look out for them), everyone who came with me to view the car before I bought it said it was a piece of sh*t, told me not to buy it, my Mom even did a check on it (as she used to work for a Finance company) and told me that the Computer said it was a piece of sh*t (litterally it came up right across the screen), and had been written off; My brother (who is far, FAR more worldy wise that I, especially with cars said it was a piece of sh*t)

So.... are you getting the message??? It was a piece of sh*t, but I had to have it and did, and surely enough and within a very, VERY short space of time, it screamed at me itself, that it was indeed... a piece of sh*t!

So... getting back to the observation about How NOT to cut rubber... One of the problems with this car (apart from it being a piece of sh*t) was that it leaked like a sieve and the drivers door, wasn't quite air-tight (or water tight) so it leaked (not only from the door, but everywhere actually) so I had to do something about it.

My solution.... purchase a strip of rubber, and glue it along the inside frame of the door, and make it water tight.

The rubber strip was a few inches too long, and me being me afterall, decided it woud be too much hassle to walk the 30 or so feet up the drive to the kitchen to get some scissors, and would cut it with a stanley knife instead, however.... I had nothing to lean on, (I did actually lie it on the bonnet and prepared to cut it there and then when my brother reminded me (how stupid I was for buying such a piece of sh*t but also that it would damage the paintwork...?) and he walked off... (Shaking his head I think)
Aha - yeah ok that would be stupid, so I knelt down on the drive, placed the rubber strip across my knee, and cut across the rubber.

YOUR ASTONISHED AREN'T YOU????

Well.... it wasn't too long (a mili-second perhaps) before I got that sudden coldness shoot up my spine..... something wasn't right.....

I froze, letting the stanley knife drop (in slow motion) onto the drive.... clank.... then the rubber strips (as there were now TWO of them) dropped either side of my leg, onto the drive..... and there it was.... a perfect slash mark right across my knee-cap...

The adrenalin started pumping through my veins like a steam train, the heart palpitation began, I felt the hairs going up on the back of my neck (and I may have touched cloth as well)

I clutched at my knee cap, looking around to see if anyone had seen the STUPID b@stard trick that I'd just done.... and limped (like a hunchback) up the drive, through the front door, up the stairs and into the bathroom, slamming the door then my ass down onto the toilet..

NO... of course I hadn't just shit myself... but instead I just sat and stared at the back of my hand, that was still clamped across my knee... what the f*ck was I gonna do, what's gonna happen if I let go, will my leg fall off? am I going to bleed to death?? I had visions of people laughing themselves stupid at my funeral, discussing how I'd managed to kill myself, they'd have to call ambulances to the funeral, people wouldn't be able to breath because of the laughing.... Jesus, What am I gonna do???

So... a deep breath, and I was in preparation...

I grabbed a wad of bog-roll, and slowly lifted my hand off my knee.... there it was the slash mark, quite artistic and surgical really... I opened up the material of my jeans, to gaze inside at what I was expecting to be a scene from Alien... and.....

Nothing.....? Eh?? No Blood.... No Ooze?? What??? How can that be.....?

I tore open the material for a better look, and still nothing.... How Bloody lucky was that!

But.... of course this is me afterall, and surely enough that wasn't the end of it, I just had to push the envelope didn't I....

I straddled my knee cap with two fingers and prized the skin apart....

GUSH!

Blood everywhere, and there it was.... my knee-cap..... Yep... I could clearly see what appeared to be the cartlidge of my knee-cap.... What the FRIG am I gonna do now.....

OH MY GOD....... Speaking of which, Yep, you guessed it.... I felt the Holy-Call burst up from my stomach, and BLARGHHHHhh..... straight into the sink, I puked for England, am pretty sure my ring-piece came up in one of the Heavings!

Some time later (after cleaninig up the Carrots and Baby food - that's how sick I was!) I still remembered that I had a wound on my kneecap that would need fixing.... but me being squeemish and all (didn't really fancy another conversation with his holyness that day to be honest) I decided NOT to tell anyone, otherwise they'd have had me down to the hospital for stitches in no-time... so... I checked the medical cupboard and did my own repair.... with plasters.....

I must have had plasters wrapped half way up and down my leg for a week!

And now many years later, I look fondly at the scar (which doesn't seem quite so big now) and ponder on what I'll tell my kids when they ask me

'Daddy.....? How DID you get all those scars?'