Afterschool Special of the Week

If you haven't guessed yet, I was a party girl in high school and all through college. By party girl, I don't mean the kind of girl who does drugs and sleeps with strangers...I'm talking about the kind of girl who's out every night, drinking and having fun.

When I was 20, my friend, Tara (from the tequila incident), and I frequented a club called 701. We knew all of the bouncers (they let us in for over 21), all of the bartenders (they gave us free drinks), and the DJ (who let us hang out in the booth, work the light show, and pick out what songs we wanted to hear). We knew the owner, the managers, and at least half of the people who frequented the place, so every time we went, we were practically guaranteed to have a great time.

Sunday nights were the best. They called it "Sunday Bloody Sunday" and had 2 for 1 import beers and played incredible alternative music from the 80's (think Depeche Mode, The Cure, etc). We never missed it. On the Sunday Bloody Sunday of Labor Day weekend, we hit 701 as usual. It was particularly crowded because of it being a holiday weekend. All of the local college students came out to play when there were no classes the next day.

Tara and I had a few beers and were walking around the club. We didn't notice a fight breaking out to our right, which was unfortunate for me because out of nowhere, I got knocked to the floor. When I stood up, there was blood everywhere (of course it was the one night I decided to wear a brand new and super-cute white top). Suddenly someone realized that it was coming from my head and a bunch of people rushed me outside.

It was determined that when the fight broke out, some Einstein tried to break it up by slinging a full bottle of Molson Ice (end over end) at the guy who was beating up his friend. The guy it was intended for moved his head at just the right moment and that sucker cocked me right between my temple and my right eye, on the brow bone (thank God that's where it hit though - could have been much worse).

Anyhow, someone called 911 and an ambulance came. The paramedics rushed in and took a look at the injury. Once they determined that I was coherent, they said, "You need to get to the hospital" and they left.

I kid you not.

So Tara goes outside to get my car so that she can drive me to the hospital. She comes back inside with a grim look on her face. Apparently, my car had been towed. She runs back into the club and starts asking around to get us a car. Meanwhile, I'm standing outside when I see the police questioning the supposed perpetrators (which made me feel a little better, despite the fact that I was about to pass out from blood loss). Luckily, Tara scores a car from one of the bartenders and we are able to get out of there and head to the hospital.

At the hospital, they let Tara come back with me. I was coming out of shock and was starting to feel the pain. To get me to stop crying, Tara - being the wonderful friend that she is - told me that she's buy me a nightgown from Victoria's Secret if I stopped. She was true to her word. Finally, a doctor came in and stitched me up (but not before letting Tara physically touch my skull because she thought it would be cool). I ended up with about 36 stitches.

When we left the hospital, it was about 6 in the morning. We still had to return the bartender's car and find out where my car had been impounded. The bartender's girlfriend let me borrow the money so that we could get my car back. We made it home by 7:30 or so in the morning.

Because of the incident, I suffered from debilitating cluster headaches and had to spend time in physical therapy. I ended up suing the club for a measley settlement and not long after, 701 closed down.

I still have a scar, though luckily my hair hides it well.