Beware The Gold Spray Paint

Reads: 205  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a true story, the memory was brought back by the poem, 'Shards of Steel' -- New Hit Single! by Mike Stevens. And is it true, every word of it!

Submitted: May 14, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 14, 2016



Beware The Gold Spray Paint.

Mike, you reminded me of an incident in my past involving the same very thing – rock music merchandise. I wanted it, couldn't afford it so came up with my own plan.
I would make something of my own. And it would be better than anything else because it would be totally original, entirely my own. Nobody else would have anything quite like it.
Can't tell you the name of the band as I really can't remember. My fanning of bands was very erratic at the time; one week this, one month that. Now I stick with the same thing year after year, with just the occasional addition.
I had just the perfect jacket, a denim one that was already worn in and really comfortable, upstairs. I used sheets and sheets of paper trying to make up a design that looked just right. I was thirteen years old at the time and art had never been one of my talents so it whiled away a good few hours.
Finally, I was satisfied with my design. All I had to do was wait until the weekend when I could go out and buy a can of gold spray paint.
And I found the paint. Gold, metallic flake, quick drying spray paint. It wasn't the cheapest but was an awful lot less than paying out for the official stuff. And they didn't have a denim jacket in the range anyway.
I was really excited about my 'fashion' project and decided to wait no longer. I brought down my jacket, I brought down my design to copy. I covered the table with newspaper and then I set to work.
'Shake Well Before Use' it said on the can, so I shook it (probably for way longer than the instructions meant). I leaned forward over my jacket and nervously pressed the nozzle.
Nothing happened. I didn't manage to get it to produce even one single drop!
Not to be put off, I went through the whole process again but it still would not produce any paint at all. Obviously I had bought a dud can, and with no receipt I wouldn't be able to take it back and exchange it.
Before chucking it in the bin I had the idea of taking it apart to see if I could find out what was wrong. I was very independent; if I'd have asked for advice I would probably have been warned not to do it.
I took off the plastic nozzle. I went and found a needle. I forced the needle into the exposed jet and – anyone who has experience with the old type of aerosol cans knows what happened next – whoosh!
A highly pressurised stream of paint squirted straight into my eyes. Metallic, quick drying gold spray paint; the kind with the little flakes of metal inside it.
My parents tried to clean it out but it was 'quick drying'. An ambulance was called but by the time I arrived at the hospital it was over half an hour since the 'accident' had occurred.
It was a very long and painful job. One eye they cleaned out okay, leaving just a few scratches. It would be painful and I would have to wear dark glasses until it had completely healed. I didn't mind that – dark glasses were 'cool'.
The other eye took hours to unstick but eventually they managed to clear the worst out, leaving a lot more scratches on that eye than the other. They plastered on this big wad of some sort of cotton and when I left the A&E it looked like I'd been in a war zone.
There was no real permanent damage done and within a couple of months I could ditch the dark glasses. But I must have been a really dumb kid!
And you know what else? By the time it had all been cleared up I was on to something else!
The moral of this story is, I suppose; It's fine to cut corners, it's great to be original. But just be careful how you do it!
Thanks, Mike!

© Copyright 2018 hullabaloo22. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: