Husband: “Did you hear about Danny’s accident today?”
Me: “Today? When? I had lunch with him earlier.”
Husband: “Yeah, no, it’s only just happened. He nearly lost a finger!”
Me: “What? Really? What happened?”
Husband: “Well there was something wrong with his A/C unit, so he poked a finger in to see that there was nothing blocking the vent, and the fan blade sliced off his finger.”
Me: “His whole finger?”
Husband: “Well, not his whole finger. Part of it.”
Me: “I see. And the first thing he does is call to tell you about it?”
Husband: “Have some compassion, woman! It’s hanging on by a thread. Blood everywhere. GUSHING, he said.”
Me: “Jesus. Is he in hospital?”
Husband: “Oh. No. He put a plaster on it.”
The following day I called in to Topbiz to check Danny hadn’t bled to death in the night, and he showed me his finger. The nail was a bit black, but otherwise it looked all right. It was certainly in one piece, with no segments missing
