Office Supplies and Phalanges

So a couple days ago, my best friend and I were in the library. We were sitting side by side at a desk using the computers. I walked back to the printer to pick up some material I printed off and strolled back to my seat. Even though my friend was concentrating very hard on her assignment, I jokingly asked if she had a stapler on her I could use to bind my stack of papers together. She laughed, followed by my own and I bent over to put my papers into my backpack. When I sat back up, I noticed that she actually had a black stapler in her hand.

I just sat there staring at her.

Looks like I chose the right friends after all, I thought. So, as I'm trying to get over the fact that this girl who never carries more than a pencil on her, if that, is handing me a stapler she pulled out of her backpack, she mumbles something to me. I'm not the greatest with small talk while in the middle of important tasks, such as that of stapling a much needed packet of papers, so I didn't quite pick up on what she was saying. What she said however, was to use it wisely because there were only two staples left. Well, as I'm ignoring her I did notice that the top part of her stapler was open--you know, the part that opens to install more of those little staples when you run out. So, as I've done numerous times before, I used my left index finger and thumb to close it.

Now, what I am going to write next might read a bit strangely, but it's the truth. It's almost as if time stopped. I saw a bright light and nothing else. Much to my idiotic surprise, I look down to see a stapler hanging from my thumb. One's instinct of course would have been to scream and pull the piece of office supply off of one's finger. No, not I, my friends, not I. I sat there staring at it. It almost seemed like a cartoon to be honest--like I should be wearing big, white gloves and my thumb would be bright red and the size of my head. I finally came to my senses--the extreme amount of pain bringing me to that conclusion of course--and I react by chucking the stapler across the room. Next, I looked over at "the right friend I had so wisely chose" who is crying tears of laughter. I mean this girl has her hands covering her face, hovered over, breathing extremely hard. In my three years of knowing her at college, I have never, ever seen her laugh as hysterically as she was, and trust me when I say we are laughaholics. As much as it pained me to see this fool laughing at my stupidity, my thumb was hurting even more. I looked back down at it and it's entirely covered in blood. Oh, and lets not forget the silver staple that's still pushed deeply into my fifth phalange.

With this incident still seeming like a dream, I take my right hand and pull the staple out of my left thumb. Let me tell you, it was in there pretty good. After that, I tossed the culprit onto the table, bloody and all. It suddenly hit me like a slap in the face that just like removing an arrow from your heart, pulling the staple out would only lead to that much more pain and blood. I looked down at my wounded soldier of a thumb. Blood. I looked back over at my roommate, who I am hoping you've realized is also my best friend. I finally decided to yelp. Oh, I let it out like you never would have imagined. No, not really. After all, I was in a library. I was just mad at my bud for laughing while I was experiencing a near-death moment. I finally got her to take me to the bathroom where I wrapped brown paper towels around my close-to-needing-an-amputation thumb, followed by a good, long wrapping of Scotch tape. So I guess there are a few pros to some office supplies...

Of course while I was bandaging myself up, my good 'ole pal called her mom to tell her the news. "Jayme was attacked by office supplies." She then smugly looks over at me and mouths the words... "You have one staple left; use it wisely."

I hope that I've taught my readers a valuable lesson through this entry. Be careful out there kids.