Blood

I’m not really queasy about the stuff.  I mean, sure, I’d rather not see it, but it doesn’t completely freak me out.  Not most of the time, anyway.  Yeah, if a friend cuts their hand, I can help get them put back together.  If I cut my foot with some ice cubes (true story, happened just two weeks ago), I can clean up with minimal disruption.  And if I get a marathon nosebleed, the most torturous part of it is the boredom I endure while waiting it out.  Hell, I once used pliers to pull out a tack that must have been seriously lodged in the bone in my heel while home alone and I hardly gave it any thought.  In my experience there has really only been one example of a time when blood kind of freaked me out.  That was when it belonged to someone else, a stranger, and he left it all over me in a packed Skytrain car.  Call me uptight.

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I was with my first boyfriend, Rob, and his friends and we were making our way home from a U2 (yes, I must have been in love to subject myself to that) concert at BC Place.  That was the tour when the Sugar Cubes (you know, what Bjork did before she went way wrong) opened.  I know that because I remember exactly how *pissed* I was that everyone talked through their entire set and that nobody had the decency to even turn down the house lights while they played.

As always happens when you want to leave downtown Vancouver after an event and are using public transportation, we were forced to file out of the stadium like sheep in a herd.  Being entirely incapable of tolerating that kind of a crowd in a relatively small a space, I convinced the group of five or six guys we were with to wait it out until we could walk at a normal pace.

By the time, we made it onto the train, there were still a ton of people around, but there was also actual (however little) room to breath.  As we piled into the car, we were immediately aware that we were being accompanied by a man who was clearly suffering from mental health issues, drunk, high or all of the above.  For two or three stops, he rattled on to anyone and everyone in general that the next stop was his stop and that he would be getting off and…. it went on and on in the track of a circle not one of us could get on.  We all just kind of stood around with strained grins on our faces, gazes bridging awkward gaps between both friends and strangers.  As the guy made his way around the crowd, he eventually came to me.  I remember Rob edged himself between this man and me creating a buffer after an eye lock that clearly communicated that we’d both felt he’d gotten too close while speaking to me directly.  Seconds passed before Rob screamed "What the fuck happened to you?"  I immediately turned to look and see what he was going on about.  Surely, nothing had happened to me. 

When I turned around again, I saw that he was still looking at me, alternating between my face and down lower, at my shirt.  I followed his gaze as he asked me again what had happened and if I was okay.  There was blood all over me.  Needless to say, it was a shock.  That moment is really one of the only moments in my life when I can say I completely lost any sense of where I was or what I was doing.  I didn’t know if it was my blood, if something had happened to me,  if I was okay.  I remember feeling extremely light-headed, like I was going to pass out. 

Everyone around me must have clued into the situation much faster than I did because just as we rolled into the station, the man behind me gave up his seat for me to sit down (I might have been in his lap, otherwise) and a few of the other passengers proceeded to get this bloody guy the hell away from me.  As the doors opened, he was ejected from the train by the folks surrounding us.  I can remember people screaming at him "Get out of here!  Just get out of here!"

Now, I don’t want to get into a debate about whether that was the right thing to do.  I really think that we were all just motivated by fear.  It probably wasn’t humane to kick the dude out of there and while we weren’t sure whether something had actually happened to me and we were leaving the culprit behind, it probably wasn’t smart.  I just don’t think anybody really knew what to do.

Here’s what I know: when I finally cleared my head of the fog, the top half of the only pair of white jeans I’ve ever owned (thank god!) was covered in blood.  My shirt had a BIG old blotch of blood on it and there was another trail down my arm to my hand.  Needless to say, the clothes went in the trash and I got over it.  I don’t know if the other guy did.

I recognize that this is a rather incomplete story, but I have no idea who the guy was, what he was doing, whether it was his blood or someone else’s, nothing.  It’s just the story of the one time (again, thankfully) some guy bled all over me on the Skytrain and it reinforces my strongly held belief that nothing good comes from U2.

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13 Responses to “Blood”

  1. Courtney Says:

    I would have been horrified. And I probably would have cried because I’m a baby like that. If I was really being smart, I would have just stepped off at a random station and gotten on the next train, let him ride off alone. Yuck, what a creepy situation! I’d be dying to know the story of what actually happened to the dude.

  2. Bex Says:

    OMG!! Good post on this topic though. I was reading, thinking, “pretty good for last minute,” then read the last line, and…well, I bow down to you.

  3. Evette Says:

    OMG! How traumatising! I agree…own blood is fine…even others if you know where it coming from…but blood that you don’t know where it has come from (especially in that quantity!) is very scary! As for U2…I agree completely with you! Great post!

  4. John O Says:

    I wonder if that guy cut himself on the “Edge”.

    J.

  5. Evey Says:

    I stopped reading the minute you bashed U2. But then I thought as your friend I should read on, and so I did. But then you ended it with a bang and yet another U2 bash.

    I enjoyed this post, I would have vomited has some strange weird guys blood was all over me.

    In all honestly though……first the hockey thing. I accept that, I accept and recpect your reasons. But now this, I don’t know we can go on being friends. I am a little traumatized by your harsh words. The next thing I know you will be telling me you hate Sarah McLachlan too. I am so sad!!!!

  6. Erin Says:

    Ok, I’m freaking out for you!! Seriously, I would have freaked if it had been me. OMG – there is something so horribly wrong with what happened … okay, can you tell I’m in a state of utter freaked outness…lol

  7. Lael Says:

    Oh God the Skytrain and weird drunk/stoned guys,ugh.
    I’ve had many experiences but none with blood!
    That must have been so surreal!

  8. ~G Says:

    That’s one of the weirdest stories I’ve ever heard. I have SO many questions…but I fear there’s just not enough answers to satiate me.

  9. Squirrel Says:

    My own blood I can handle but my kids… Yeah someone better be there to help ’cause i’m pssing out. A strangers blood? All I can say is that would be a nightmare beyond description!

  10. Say Rah! Says:

    totally bizarre! and like the others, i am left wanting more…

  11. John O Says:

    I thought of another one….

    Was the concert on a Sunday?

    Get it? Sunday, Bloody Sunday….. =)

    ba-dump-boom-pish.

  12. John O Says:

    Ah, the concert was a Saturday. Maybe it was past midnight when it happened? Makes it Sunday. Bloody. Sunday.

  13. durante vita Says:

    …nothing good comes from U2

    I would like to know more about that.

    That is so strange. You must have been scared. I’m dying to know more.

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