So I used to work at one of those "lube-job" places that change yer oil, spin tires around on fancy shmancy machines, yadda yadda yadda. All good times, mmm good times. And occasional shenanigans when the boss is out. It's now 6:58PM and the day is done! Almost time to close shop, just gotta wait for that last car to move out. Annnd... finally. Doors are closed, time to slide the service grates shut on the oil bay: reach up, fingers through the grid...grab ahold of the slide, tug... and OHCRAPCRAPPCRAPCRAP my ring finger is stuck! The grate slams shut-on my finger. The guys up above can see it stickin out of the floor like a dandelion after the rain. " Hey Von!.. got a problem there buddy?" (they are LOL'n their heads off...) This is the kind of grate that locks in place. So I'm pretty much "there" until someone rescues me. And yes, this hurts. A lot. Like, HR would can my bum if they could hear the words I want to let outta my mouth. "Gee, that looks bad man. It's kinda like... it looks like it's tryin take a nap. " And "hey Von, we are gunna hit the wash and lock up. See ya tomorrow?" The man door swings closed. Another co worker slides a bottle of oil across the floor to where my finger is pinched. "Looks like you forgot the lube there buddy."

So the jokes go on for a lil while longer, and eventually some kind hearted joker comes down and hits the release on the grate. FREEDOM! -oh god, just cut this thing OFF of me! *pain. painpainpain...wow, it's just kinda all floppy isn't it? All.. bendy..unnatural...kinda cool... but.. daaaaang it's killin me!

Since it happened at work, I have to forgo clocking out on time. Noooo, it's off to the doctor for... you guessed it: "gee, ya broke it." Ya think? I end up with a week of counter-duty and orders to keep the dumb thing clean. In a tire/lube shope? HAHA -riiight. At the end of the first week, the ring finger is bigger than my big toe. Nasty, painful cuss. The nail should have come off at the doctor's visit but the smarty said nope. It won't get infected ff we leave it. Riiight. So I'm pretty sick of this goober on my hand. I grab a set of locking pliers, a tire-flat bar, and walk right into the shop to the tire bay. I set my arm in the tire vise we use for fixing flats and lock myself down in it. The guys in the shop all stop in fear and stare at me. "WHAT are you doing!!? NO--Nooo NO! You wouldn't?"

Yup, I am! So, arm locked down in the vice, blue smelly finger expose: tire poker in one hand, and a locking pliers clipped to the nail. Tire vice handle swings down, nail comes off with the pliers, poker to stab at the same time..... aaaaaaahhhhhh relief!!! *co workers are all gagging and crying in terror. I unlock my arm, put the tools away, and hit the washroom for fresh bandages.