Somehow the Moments Drifted Along...
There is a bar at our favorite market. Have one too many rounds at said bar. Plan a dinner menu. Map out a course of action. Run a mad dash through the market before it closes to pick up ingredients. Hit up the liquor store. Taxi home. Start cooking. Very typical date for us. We dance and kiss to our favorite songs. We enjoy each other and we enjoy the fruits of our labor. How could you not want to share that joy? We started inviting guests. Summer and the holidays became dinner parties at The Convery’s.
Our guests were thankfully late this Sunday afternoon. We were behind schedule. I had been drinking since noon. Twirling and singing my way around the tiny kitchen. We would dance until the dog got upset. Things began to come together. The table was set and food would drop soon. My final project was to shave the late summer squash thin on the mandolin. I was working as fast as I could but with next to no concern for safety. That is when it happened. The razor sharp blade of the mandolin caught my little finger removing a sizable chunk into the bowl of squash below.
I was not prepared for the blood. I placed the gushing finger under cold running water while I frantically searched for a towel with my functional hand. I couldn’t apply enough pressure before the towel soaked through dripping with blood.
My girlfriend heard my sheer panic. “Do you want me to call you an Uber or ambulance? Are you okay? How bad?” She calmly asked.
“No, I can fix this. We have guests. I’m not bleeding for hours to pay thousand for a few stitches.” The show must go on.
“Place your hand above your head,” she said. My hand now duct taped to a roll of red paper towels is raised to the heavens in praise. “Christ almighty,” I exclaim. Blood pours down my forearm. “Mo, there is super glue in the drawer.”
Removing the paper towel the blood sprays across the sink. My girlfriend quietly asks if she can dump the bottle of super glue onto my finger. I remove the towels once again for a brief moment as she up ends the glue creating a viscus mess of blood and plastic.
With heaving breaths I try to blow the glue dry in a feeble attempt to close the wound. My head feels light and my eyelids heavy. I realize just how terrible of a cut I’ve incurred.
“Well, hon, shall we go to the hospital?”
“No, I have an idea. Grab the vodka from the freezer.”
“I don’t think this will be enough for your finger,” She said.
“Oh no, it’s for me to drink. I want to cauterize.”
“Cauterize? Seriously?”
“Yeah, like Rambo. Can you find me a butter knife?”
My girlfriend places the edge of the butter knife into the flame of the gas burner. As the tip of the blade heats red hot. I chug the vodka.
“Alright, I don’t know what is going to happen. I might scream. I might flail. Be careful if you’re behind me. I don’t want you to get hit.”
She gives me an affirmative nod and hands me the knife.
The moment I press the burning knife into my finger I let out a yelp followed by gasping crazed laughter. My finger is still gushing blood.
“Holy Shit!” ad nauseam.
“Can you do it again,” she asks.
The burnt bloody knife goes back into the flame. My blood burns to carbon and the blade resumes its glow.
Round two.
“Are you ready,” she cooly asks handing me the knife.
The smell of my finger burning on the second pressing made me feel dizzy and I could no longer feel my finger.
“Again,” I demand handing the knife back to her. Blood slowly dripping.
“If this one doesn’t work we gotta get to the hospital,” she says passing the blade back.
On the final round I made it count throwing my weight into it pressing my finger between the burning blade and the sink. Upon removing the knife my flesh is charred and the dried super glue is now singed smoking plastic. “Holy shit. The bleeding stopped.”
My girlfriend began to quietly bandage my finger. I was in awe of her. Her patience and kindness was unparalleled. I freaked out through that entire endeavor. As our guests arrived I knew for sure this would be the woman I marry. I began saving for an engagement ring that week.
As of this writing we have been happily married two of the last ten years we have been together. We truly have experienced richer or poorer, sickness and health. Together we have overcome some of the worst life has to offer only to build a beautiful and quiet life.
-K