I created a little excitement in Shenanigans last night. I had been enjoying a couple of gin and sodas and chatting with some dart league friends. I remember standing up and coughing. And then I remember being helped up off the floor spewing blood from my mouth.
I hate when that happens.
And it has happened before. Back in February 2006 I had a black out in Dolce Vita. That earned me an ambulance ride and a bunch of stitches in my forehead. Stupid is as stupid does, eh?
Then there was the night in May of 2008 at Metro Bar that also left me in stitches.
I guess you might say that blacking out and falling down in Itaewon bars is something of a tradition with me. I couldn’t very well leave town without one last fall for old times sake, now could I?
Last night’s tumble went down just like the first two incidents. I stood up, I coughed, blacked out, and went face first into a table. This time I came away with only a split lip, so I’ll consider myself lucky.
And for the record, I was not drunk, nor was I drunk the other two times. The fact that it only seems to occur in bars is purely coincidental. I’m not sure what it is all about, the combination of standing and coughing seems to create a lack of oxygen flow to the brain or something. Hell, I don’t know. Fortunately, it doesn’t happen frequently and it’s always good for a blog post.
As I was being helped up from the floor and regaining consciousness, I was in a dream-like happy place. I didn’t want to leave there. It wasn’t exactly a “walk towards the light” moment, but if that is what dying feels like it won’t be so bad. Of course, there is only one way to find out and I’m really not THAT curious!