The day after Custard Gun’s McInnis and I managed to get drunk in our jail cell was Australia Day. A great cause for celebration for any aussie. Just not so great this time for Custard…
Being in Karratha on cyclone evacuation with one hundred other rig pigs and a town full of miners, shit was always gonna get wild. But to be honest it wasn’t the greatest party ever. Too many blokes, too many fights and almost no girls at all. I think I saw 3 for the day as opposed to about four hundred blokes.
We hung around the pub for most of the day and drank our fair share. Come closing time taxis were rung and all was normal enough. We headed back to the resort for a few more drinks in the pouring rain.
We pulled up out front of the resort and flung the door open, no one too keen to be the first out into the rain. It was pouring so hard you could forgive the boys for being afraid they’d drown. One by one though surely enough everyone jumped out and ran off to their rooms until it was just Custard Guns and myself left. ‘Get out worm’ I told him and with that he jumped out and bolted off towards the cover of the nearest roof, fifty metres away.
The carpark at the resort had a cable gate preventing cars from going through and onto the roads inside the resort, those roads you may remember are for golf buggies! It was one of those gates that literally was just a wire cable, about an inch thick, running at about knee height across the road. Normally they have some reflective tape on it so that people know they are there. Unfortunately for Custard, this one didn’t.
Custard Guns McInnis hit the cable gate running. He was so intoxicated that he didn’t even manage to get his hands out for protection and he took the full force of the fall straight on the nose!
He looked horrendous when I rolled him over, briefly unconscious. He woke and the more he came to the more he started to moan, with fair reason I guess. He had broken his nose, pushed some teeth through the skin below his lip and had grazes all over his face. He did a fricken good job of fucking himself up.
The taxi had already left and I didn’t have a phone on me so I hit the intercom of the resort and before long the manager answered. I convinced him to take Guns and I to the hospital to get his nose checked out. We got dropped there at about 1am I guess.
Karratha is a pretty rough old place and the nurses in the hospital were exactly what I imagined they would be, big burly ladies that looked like they belonged in the mental ward on a horror film.
They took Custard in and told us his nose wasn’t badly enough broken to warrant it being put back into place ‘the fun way’. It would heal just fine, as soon as they removed all the gravel.
I’ve got the video to cover what happened then, but let me say this, they offered the kid a local anaesthetic and even told him it would ‘hurt like getting kicked by a cow’, but lil Custard is a tough nugget and didn’t want to hang around waiting for them to get their shit together, nor for the anaesthetic to set in, so he gritted his teeth…and I hit the record button…