I was running for my train. After entering in the station airlock, for a reason i still can’t explain, i turned right instead of continuing straight ahead and BAM, i hit a glass with my face. Now i have a little scar, fortunately hidden behind my eyebrow.
So this is half on me, and half on my father. (I inherited my “stupid idea” gene.
When I was 16 my dad was building a greenhouse on our small acreage. Frame was up, everything was ready and it became time to lay down the heavy clear plastic sheeting that would form the surface.
As he was up in the top nailing down each corner, it was my job to hold each corner down as tight as I could from the ground by using a rope attached to the corner of the sheet. (I don’t know if i’m describing this properly).
Any way, my father’s fault in the story is this: The only “rope” we could find was baler twine. It’s thin, coarse, and can easily slice like a saw. We secured a long piece of it to the corner of the sheeting and my job was to basically “tug of war” the corner in order to keep it taut for my father to secure.
Anyone raised in the country already sees exactly where I’m going with this…
MY stupid part in this story is this…
In an attempt to get a better purchase on the baler twine, I wrapped it a few times around my hand, through my fingers, etc…
Did I mention it was a bit windy that day? So a guest of wind took the corner and ripped it out of my hands, with the twine literally zipping through my fingers, slicing them nearly to the bone because friction + baler twine = weirdly effective saw.
Four fingers on my right hand were left with ring scars from where the twine zipped through them and my right hand was out of action for about a week