The Toenail Chronicles - Not for the Squeamish!

Stopped in a little after 9 last night to have a couple of cocktails. Heinies and shots of Cabo Wabo. Croc was working, but he didn't look quite right. Kinda pale and pasty. I thought maybe he was constipated.

Biker Bob was present and accounted for after a week-long hiatus. How did he stay away so long? Seems that he has been working hard [so he claims] on a really old building in a place with no parking. We chatted a bit, he ruined a couple of my games of Big Buck Hunter, and then he headed home. Early start today at work.

Timmy was there as well. Always a good night when Croc is working and me and Timmy are drinking. And breaking Croc's balls. And drinking. And playing some good old music circa 1950's-60's. Sam Cooke, Neil Sedaka, and Booby Darin all made appearances.

Anyhow, conversation turned to Croc, and his pasty white appearance. It turns out he was in pain from an ingrown toenail. Someone stepped on it earlier that day in the bar. Talk about bad luck.

So I'm breaking his balls. C'mon, show me. How bad can it be. On and on. Finally he gives in and takes off his sneaker. His white crew sock had a blood stain right through. Then he takes off the sock. I can see the toe is partially bandaged. But the part that isn't wrapped looks like a piece of raw steak. Like a kebob cube you would skewer and cook on the "Barbie".

Now we stop breaking balls. Looks bad, maybe infected. I tell him I know a foot doctor, family friend kinda thing and that I will take him to get the toe fixed, amputated, whatever, in the morning. All that blood, pain, and rawness wouldn't deter him from closing up shop early. Standing on that ribeye of a toe had to hurt. But he wouldn't close up.

If it was me, with my civil servant mentality, I'd have called in sick, never mind stand on it all friggin' night.

I just got a text from him a couple of minutes ago...It read "Did toe. Bloody hurt." Crazy Australian.