Stabbed In The Arse On The Train

I like my dry cleaner. He and his wife are one of the very few people I will happily pass the time of day with in my area. I visit him at least once a week and to date he has always done a great job on any of the clothes I drop off with him. I am gonna have words with him after this though.

Lunchtime today found me hunting yet again for my sisters christmas present. She wanted some specific cosmetics and I had hunted for them on three separate occasions with no joy. Today I meant business. No toodling around the shops near my office. No. Today I jumped on a train to travel a few miles to a place I was sure would have these cosmetics. I went into the underground, waited on the platform for the train and when it came I hopped on. It was quite busy in the carriage and maybe three quarters of the seats were taken. I located a free seat and sat down between two people. The second my arse hit the seat I felt an intense jabbing pain just under my right arse cheek and before I could jump up the jabbing had travelled further into my flesh and jarred into bone. Before I knew what I was doing, and more importantly where I was, I leapt high into the air with what must have been a cartoon expression of pain and screamed my favourite expletive at the top of my lungs. More than once and with other adjoining words scattered inbetween.

Everyone is now watching. Everyone. And they look shocked.

I instantly stare at the seat for the offending something that has stabbed me right in the arse with such force. Nothing jumped out at me and I bent over for a closer look. Nothing. Half the carriage can see my arse and the other half can see the pained look disappearing from my face and merging into something resembling embarrassment. This had all gone on now for maybe three or four seconds and I needed to triumphiantly hold aloft something to let everyone know I wasn't some kind of weirdo but that my arse had been publicly violated, and I wasn't having it. Still nothing.

Now I was noticing the jarring pain in my arse again and instinctively reached behind to touch the exact epicentre. I don't know why but it is something we all do isn't it. I felt a foreign something. Then I felt it dislodge and fall down my trouser leg where I heard a soft noise as it hit the floor. As there was total silence at this point I think the entire carriage may well have heard that soft noise too so some of them were already gleefully glaring at my feet to see what had made this strange man scream like a little girl, and then curse like the most fervent of Somalian pirates upon discovering the Indian navy at the horizon.

A safety pin. With blood on the end.

I grabbed it and got the fuck off the train in a hurry. Fate had thrown me an olive branch and we were suddenly at my station. As I limped off the train it all began to fall into place. My dry cleaner puts little blue paper tags on every piece of clothing he cleans. He usually tags them there with one of those machines that annoyingly fastens price labels to clothes. He must have run out and used a safety pin. I guess I sat on it during the morning and as I got up from my desk to go to lunch it unfastened and was hanging there awaiting its opportunity.

Holy fuck that hurt. It actually hit bone.