Bottle Head Smash’n

Someone once told me: ‘It’s better to learn the hard way so you can get used to the pain of everyday life.’ Pain and suffering is what I’m feeling now. And not the dynamic psychological pain of everyday life but real throbbing physical pain. Dearest readers, the events that unfolded this weekend were deemed classified, however, rationalizing that a good cartoon must disclose everything, I have decided to come clean and entertain you with this week’s adventures.

For those who didn’t read last week’s dear diary entry, I was robbed. In addition to being robbed, a pretty Israeli girl who I was infatuated with broke my heart, which hurts more than the robbery. I was seeing the pretty Israeli girl for a couple of weeks, wandering the streets of 🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫, late into the evenings. The intense sense of camaraderie and attraction made our adventures extremely titillating. The reaction this pretty Israeli girl elicited on the streets was unique. For example, when crossing a street taxis literally screeched to a halt so they could perv my companion. She was truly beautiful with the tightest little blonde curly hair, which, when walking through densely packed markets people would touch her hair to have a feel. Without citing a reason she broke it off, and saddened I am indeedy-do.

Therefore, I wasn’t overly excited to attend Shabbat celebrations this week but genuinely needed a distraction from my nagging negativity, so off I went. It was lively and thanks to Rabbi Shalom – he’s a blessing. After dinner my friends extended an invitation to join them for a night out. However, they were high rollers and I couldn’t bankroll a night on the town, plus the pretty Israeli girl was part of the pack. I went home instead and wallowed in self-pity. 

About an hour into my wallowing I received a message from my workmates, they were heading to a nearby underground student club and knowing that I was robbed wanted to take me for some cheap-cheap drinks, so off I went. The bar was a strange little spot that smelled of vomit and rubbing alcohol. I quickly discovered that my workmates had a four-hour head start and were trashed. I had a few drinks and started chatting with some girls. Beside me, a  pretty workmate was getting hit on by a local lad. Unfortunately for me she was rude and turned him down, which inspired this defeated lad to want revenge… 

When it was time for my departure I headed to the elevator. While waiting for the lift the inspired lad whom my pretty workmate turned down got behind me with a beer bottle, and when the doors opened he smashed my precious little head. What did I do but the only honorable thing I could – I jumped into the lift frantically pressing the button to close the doors and off I went. Once I surfaced above ground, I jumped into a taxi and proceeded home where I surveyed the damage and rang Oz who came over and helped me into an ambulance. Off to the hospital we went where the evening concluded with a doctor shaving my hair to remove the chunks of glass from my precious little skull. 

Friends, faithful readers, what is going on with your humble narrator? I am ok but that was insane. Thank golly I didn’t require a blood transfusion, with my luck I would have been infected with HIV.