Aliens, Hockey Players and University Hospital

So last night was Sunday night. I have come to love Sundays simply for the fact my sister and I go play hockey up in Cleveland with an adult pickup team. Well, my sister plays, I go and skate around, then go up to the bar and drink while they start their game.  Last night was especially important cause I had to study for a mid term for the following morning (today.)

So after I skated around for 45 minutes, I clambered off the ice, changed into unsmelly clothes, then hit the books. Not twenty minutes later I look up and all play has ceased. There seemed to be a huge conglomerate of players by the bench, and I assumed they were having a quick meeting. So back to studying I go. Just as I start working on the definition of Mercantilism, a puck smashes into the window right in front of me. I naturally land sprawled out on the floor with beer all over me. Cussing up a stream, which caused the children in the room to start crying, I climbed to my feet and looked out the now rubber-streaked window. And what I saw literally caused my heart to jump into my throat and stop beating. Three of my sisters fellow players stood there with white-stricken faces gesturing wildly for me to get down to the ice. Spilling the rest of my beer on my text books as I grabbed my purse.

 You see, my sister went to the doctor the other day and was suspected of having mono- the kissing disease. Which wouldn't have been a problem, but mono is known to swell the spleen and can rupture if playing contact sports. So as I'm trying to run down the stairs in flimsy flipflops, my thought process was, "Her spleen exploded and her body is filling up with bile and poop and she's going to die and she'll have poop all inside her."

When I got to the ice, although trying to be helpful, her teammates simply made my terror worse. I heared ten different stories about what happened before even laying eyes on my near dead sister, and I was close to murder.
 "She fell and landed on her head,"
 "No she fell and landed on her back,"
"I didn't see her fall, I just saw her faint"
 "She fell and slid feet first into the boards,"
 "An alien popped out of her chest and is now loose in the rink."

I made it to the bench just as they got her up and were moving her to the ice to lay down on a flat surface. I can honestly say, I am very glad at the diversity of her team. We had a paramedic, a plastic surgeon and a dentist helping her out. So now someone can help her with her medical problem, the surgeon can probably sew up the hole in her chest from the alien with minimum scarring, and the dentist can whiten her teeth for her before her picture gets splattered all over the news for surviving an alien attack.

Someone managed to find Kristen's cell phone and I promptly called my dad in a near panic. "Dad! Kristen was attacked by an alien. I don't think she is going to make it, but they called the paramedics and they are on their way."
"Is she okay?" said my dad, always the calm port in the storm.
"No dad! She has a huge gaping hole in her chest!" At this point I'm crying my eyes out while my sisters fellow teammates try to soothe me by patting my back with their massive gloves. still have the bruises to prove it.

The paramedics showed up and I had to hang up and talk to them and get all of our stuff together and find my purse which had somehow ran away. My dad called me about three times ever five minutes for updates, which did NOT help my state of mind.
After a near death experience in the ambulance where a flying saucer tried to beam up the entire vehicle, we made it to University Hospital's ER.

They wheeled her into Room 18. But after being in a small, enclosed room with Kristen they all left as fast as they could. I don't blame them one bit, and I wish I could have gone with them. Kristen smelled like a half-decomposed dead animal rotting and baking in the sahara desert. As one of the doctors left, he patted my shoulder and, while gasping for air, asked me if I could remove everything from the waste down. This is when I knew it was going to be a long night.

Working slowly, I removed her socks, shin guards, skates and padded pants. And as each piece of equipment was removed, I came closer to fainting from lack of oxygen.
I quickly gave up, spurted some excuse to Kristen about how I needed to call dad and left the room. The only problem was her stink had seeped into my clothing. The doctors started handing out gas masks lysol spray to anyone who HAD to enter her room.

After a while,  I think they were scared she was going to pass out from her own smell, so they wheeled her off for some cat scans and xrays, then forgot her in a hallway for a while, until the smell started seeping into some of the offices where the doctors were taking breaks and eating dinner/breakfast, so they had to put her back into her initial room. It got to the point where no one would enter her room. We sat there for six hours until finally someone got the courage to enter the room and explain Kristen wasn't attacked by an alien and had whiplash from falling on her clumsy feet, then discharged her.

We got home at fourish in the morning. I faceplanted into my bed and didn't move until 8:50- the LAST possible minute I had to get up and get to class for my midterm.I gave myself enough time to brush my teeth. Although my professor was understanding enough and is letting me take the test tomorrow morning instead, I can honestly say aliens, hockey players and University Hospital in Cleveland do not mix well with each other.

Creep

I feel like I have a creepy guy pheromone. For some ungoldy reason, the most unsavory men find me, ask me out, and then proceed to follow me around like a love-sick puppy until he moves into creepy stalker mode.  For all the men out there, I want to give you a handful of tips to be as uncreepy as possible.

1. Upon first meeting, DO NOT talk about how some girl accused you of raping her.
2. If some girl looses her mind for a minute and gives you her phone number, DO NOT call her four times in one night, text her twice and leave a voicemail. It's effin creepy and annoying.
3. Loose the weight. I'm not saying you have to have ripplin' muscles and a six pack, but if you are obese, and trying to hit up that hot cheerleader... you are setting yourself up for failure.
4. When a girl gives you the friend speech, do not call her bad names, do not cuss at her, or blow up her phone with rude text messages.
5. Do not give her the glare of death throughout all of class.
6. Do not follow behind her while she walks to her car, especially when she knows you park on the opposite side of campus.

When a dead animal is found under her car, even if it died a natural death and crawled under there to preserve it's body from getting mutilated by other predators, the girl is going to naturally think you put it there. I can honestly say, when the girl thinks creepy guy has reached the dead animal present stage, her first reaction will be to go to the police.  So, creepy guy- an eye for an eye. If I find another dead animal under my car, your car is going to get destroyed. Carrie Underwood is going to look like an amateur. It's going to be a fucking scavenger hunt to find all your car pieces. But I'll give you a hint to start somewhere. You can find one of your tires on the roof of Bowman hall.

 Let the games begin.