He says he’s been stabbed

Most of the time, stabbings turn out to be ridiculously trivial affairs involving handbags at dawn in some form or another.  But none the less, you still try and get to them quick . . . just in case it might be something real for once.

My car screeched* to a halt outside a busy intersection and I was instantly greeted by an unusually dressed Shoreditch trendie looking rather flushed.  He gestured, over theatrically I thought, toward a young man propped up against a lamp post clutching at the side of his chest in pain.

“Quick!  He’s over there!  He says he’s been stabbed!”

I grabbed my kit and rushed* over to the patient.

“Hiya fella, what’s happened tonight then?”  He was wincing in pain and looked like he was about to collapse at any second.

“I – I – I’ve been mugged . . . they stabbed me and stole my phone”

“Let’s have a look then hey . . . ”  Dumping my kit, I lifted up his T shirt and gave a thorough inspection to the site of ‘injury’ and then all over his torso . . .

. . . nothing.  Not a thing.  Not a scratch, not a bruise, not a whelp, nothing.

“Um . . . ”  I ventured, “. . . I don’t think you have been stabbed I’m afraid”

“What?!”  The young lad snapped out of his pain stricken pose and stood up straight.  “erm . . . I think he must of . . . punched me then – but,” he added in strict justification to these stark findings,  “he did steel my phone though”

At that moment a pretty young woman came skipping across the road and approached us with an iPhone in her hand.

“Hiya,” she said to the patient in an angelic voice and a smile that could melt anyone at 50 paces, “I think this is yours . . . I saw you drop it just now”.

There was a moments silence as we all readjusted our perspective on things.  And, at that moment the police arrived and after giving them a quick explanation the first policeman laughed warmly.

“I think sir,”  he chuckled, “that when you get stabbed there’s usually a hole . . . or blood.  Perhaps even both.  Have a nice night eh”  They left as soon as they arrived.

And, after a brief set of embarrassed apologies from the patient, I left him attempting to obtain the girl’s phone number and returned to my car to complete paperwork.


*I didn’t really screech to a halt and I certainly didn’t rush.

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