I didn’t want another crummy day for Liz, so at lunchtime I went to Venus around the corner and ordered her some flowers. I left them in the reception of her office with a note: "I hope you have a better day today."
In the evening, we went to One Lounge for Gemma’s 21st birthday. Gemma looked very glamorous, as did all of her friends.
As the evening drew to a close, Liz asked me, “Do you know first aid?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Why?”
“Look.”
A girl had collapsed on the floor behind us. Oh shit! I scooted over, and went through normal checks. She wasn’t obviously injured, and was definitely breathing, and had more or less fallen into the recovery position anyway, so not too serious. Drunk? Yes, her and me. We found her phone and tried to call her friends. She was unconscious, but not really at risk. We couldn’t wake her up, and we couldn’t get through to her friends, so Liz rang for an ambulance. “Tell them that the casualty is breathing,” I remembered to say to her. I was glad that the paramedic was on the way – I think I was too pissed to do CPR. I waited outside, he arrived, and I showed him in.
Weird, and wrong, was that almost all of the jerks in One Lounge were just getting on with partying on down as if the poor girl on the floor wasn’t even there. Boozy boys were almost stepping on her as the paramedic tended to her. It made me quite angry, and I was glad to be given something to do – go and wait outside for the ambulance, please – to keep my fury at bay. They came and she went. Surreal.
Back at my house, Liz and I smooched to the Longpigs then went to bed.
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