violetsnvalium: (Default)
[personal profile] violetsnvalium
Well, looks like my fun is going to be slightly curtailed for a while... Latest X-rays show that my hand is now a million times worse than before, so they have to operate on it. Then a month without moving it, and then a month of hand re-education. The boys have already promised to visit me in the hospital bearing gifts of Jagermeister and shouting "SHOTTTT!", which is very sweet of them. (You don't stay in the hospital for a hand operation, do you? It's just in and out, right? Because I have to feed the cat.)

The other night the owner of my bar came in for a drink and saw me merrily working away with one hand, and said "What are you doing?" I said, "Making a Pina Colada." He said, "What happened to your hand?" I said, "It broke." He called another manager to come in and sent me away. I am not allowed to work until it's fixed (which, in all fairness, would probably have happened anyway now that I have to be operated) and he did not agree that the metal cast thing made an absolutely perfect tray for carrying a champagne bucket above my head. They have taken away the metal cast thing now, though, because it bent my hand the wrong way and is to blame for my slipping bones (the champagne buckets apparently are not!). Now I have a sort of sock thing full of resin and a curled claw hand.

So yesterday after the hospital I angrily stamped around Paris and sat on a terrace and ordered a diet Coke from the waiter. He said "That's so hardcore." I said, "Diet Coke, and don't be stingy baby." So he brought me a huge litre glass of diet Coke with a sparkler in it and more sparklers in his hands to decorate the table. Then I stamped angrily to another bar to see my barman friend and eat chocolate cake, and couldn't use the spoon very well with my left hand, so my friend tried to shovel it into my mouth and then we drank shots, and a table of businessmen sent me champagne, and it was 1.30pm and I was already getting drunk. So I stamped in an angry wooze to the Champs Elysées and bought myself concert tickets to fill up my gaping free time (Liszt and fireworks in the park next Thursday!) and wandered into the metro. People looked at me funny. Maybe because of the midnight blue silk evening gown and black lace bolero and black flower behind my ear, coupled with the giant hand-paw in the resin sock.

Ended up back at work, with my equally blonde friend, drinking more and trying to seduce the poor DJ by writing his name on my leg. Then suddenly I was bored.

So I went home.

Photobucket

Ah, he loves it, you can tell. (Not really so much.)
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violetsnvalium

August 2013

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