Driving home from work the other night, I was listening to Radio 6 Music. They wanted listeners to email in their ‘dance floor disasters’. By the time I got home I’d forgotten all about it until this morning…………

I hope the person who I’m going to write about doesn’t mind. If he ever does read it he’ll know its him 🙂

We had some workmates over from one of our companies other sites, and a group of us had decided to go out for a few drinks in the town centre. If i remember rightly we met up in a Wetherspoons, had a couple of drinks and headed up the High St. As we were walking past a bank, one of our visiting group from the North East (let’s call him Jim) stopped and said he he needed some money from the cashline. We walked slowly on up towards Menzies. As we reached the Steeple I stopped.

‘Where’s Jim?’

We all turned to find him hobbling along with a limp. We thought he was kidding on.

‘C’mon you silly old fart….run!!!’

After a few seconds it became clear he wasn’t having us on. Something had happened.

‘What happened?’

‘Well, I took the money from the machine. Turned my head. Saw you’d walked quite a distance and decided to turn and skip into a slow jog. As i turned I tweaked my right calf muscle’

‘Tweaked your right calf muscle! You look as if you’ve been ten rounds with Mike Tyson! We only left you for a second. Christ!’

One of the girls who wasa bit more sympathetic suggested we change our plans and go somewhere where Jim could sit down’

‘I’m fine…… Jumpin Jacks here we come!’

‘Are you sure Jim. A dance club isn’t probably top of your to-do list at the moment’

‘It’s ok. I did it once before. I’ll be fine’

So we trundled on with limping Jim, contemplating just how easy it was to hurt yourself.

We eventually ended up at the club, and, after parting with our hard earned cash, we were in. It wasn’t long before some of the group drifted on to the dance floor. I found myself standing with one of my mates just watching a cornucopia of dance moves, ranging from standing still waving ones arms to a couple of John Travolta Saturday Night Fever types.
It was then i spotted Jim. Our limping star and one of our other Strictly Come Dancing stars had somehow managed to persuade two pretty girls to get up on the stage. Jim seemed to be managing reasonably well with his torn calf muscle, although he was listing to one side a bit.

Eventually the girls decided a third dance with our two Fred astaires was pushing it and left them standing dancing with thin air. They looked around in a ‘we’re not really bothered if no one wants to dance with us but we are really’ 🙂 Eventually they gave up and started down the steps from the main stage down to the lower dance floor.

Suddenly, Jim was sprawling on the floor having taken two dancers with him. His compatriot went to help him up but was beaten to it by two burly bouncers who grabbed Jim by the lapels and hoisted him up the steps. Theres was a commotion, waving arms and the last we saw of them was Jim and his sidekick being escorted off the premises. By the time we got outside they’d gone. There was no sign of either of them.

On Monday morning, work beckoned. It wasn’t long before Jim arrived, still limping.

‘Hey Jimbo, didn’t realise you’d had that much to drink. Not exactly the best way to finish the evening getting booted out by the bouncers’

‘I wasn’t drunk. My calf gave way as we were walking down the stairs. With no handrail, that was it, down I went and took two dancers out on the way’

‘Jeezo Jim. Really wasn’t your night’

‘Is your leg ok?’

He lifted his trouser leg……

‘OMG Jim, christ…!’

He really had ruptured his calf. His entire calf was almost black!!

‘I did something similar 20 years ago. It’ll be fine’

Then he lifted the sleeve of his shirt.

It wasn’t quite as bad but it was also black and blue.

‘My shoulders got something similar too. When i fell off the steps I banged myself good and proper.

‘God Jim. The thing is….you’re up here to work a couple of days on a product trial. When you head home tonight, how on earth are you going to explain to your wife what happened to you!?’

I never did find out what story he came up with, and I didn’t send his story to Radio 6 music but let Jims travails remind you to be aware of dangerous cashline machines and dodgy calf muscles……… 🙂

@Radio6Music – The Cashline Dancer was written by David Linden. You can find me on Twitter @qosfc1919 © Dodo Productions 2015