Just weeks after I had graduated from high school, I was hanging out at the bookstore where I was working at the time. My friends Dan and Jeff were supposed to meet me there, and I was sure Dan was going to make a plea that I get back together with my ex. See, I had met this psycho-she-bitch through Dan’s girlfriend, at one of her parties. When I dumped her crazy-ass, Dan’s girlfriend became quite distraught, and nagged the Hell outta him to get us back together. Needless to say, I wasn’t going back to the she-devil, even if she sent her legion of flying monkeys to fling their feces at me.
Dan and Jeff arrived, and we were ready to take off when Dan got a page from his gf. Knowing that she’d want to pester me, I went inside the store, followed by Jeff. We bullshitted with some of my co-workers, and after a few minutes started to walk towards the door. Now, to understand the rest of this story, you’re gonna have to picture the front entrance to the bookstore. There wasn’t a wall, only numerous panes of glass, stretching from one end of the entrance to the other. The double-door entrance was surrounded by a small gold frame, with two huge arced handles to open them. From the front entrance, you can see in or out as clear as day.
So I’m standing in the vicinity of Jeff and some old lady reading the latest Tom Clancy novel off the front endcap, and we spot Dan heading towards the store from the payphones, walking uncharacteristically fast. Suddenly he hooks right, and *BAM!*, smacks face-first into a glass panel. The sound echos with a great boom all throughout the store, and the old lady screams out “OH MY GOD!” I swear that old broad pissed herself she was so scared. The pane of glass bended in with the weight against it, and seemed like it would shatter at any second. But instead it paused, and shot Dan back onto the sidewalk. The entire set of windows shook from the impact. Dan swaggers a second, attempts to regain balance, but loses it, swivels left, and plops face-first into the concrete. This all took place in a few-second period, but seemed like an eternally beautiful dance of blood and pain for poor old Dan.
We rushed outside to see how he was, and he laid on the ground, holding his face. A little trickle of blood spilled out onto the pavement, and I asked him if he was OK. He just waved us away, and I noticed that he was crying like a little baby. He starts screaming about how his nose is broken. I calmly tell him that its just a nosebleed, and that he needs to cool it. He starts bawling his eyes out and crumples into a little ball. Suddenly a crowd formed around us, and lo and behold, two chicks that we know came walking on up. One of whom, BTW , Dan had expressed interest in playin’ slip ‘n’ slide with. So they’re laughing at his dumb ass, he’s crying like a little sissy girl, and I’m crackin’ wise about his stupidity. He gets up, holding his face, runs to his car, and drives off spouting off about us being assholes. Meanwhile, I invite the two chicks to go with us to the movies, and we laugh all the way there about what a jackass Dan is.
Dan eventually forgave and forgot, but to this day there is still a stain from his nosebleed on the concrete in front of the bookstore.
