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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 00:07   #1
Tomkat
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The Alpha Male Confrontation

When I was first diagnosed with lymphoma, I was put into a ward in Guy's Hospital. I'd only been admitted 2 days earlier, and this ward was specialised for cancer patients.

It was called Samaritan Ward and it's possibly one of the most depressing places I've ever been in.

Not because of the nurses or the food or the view. All of those were amazing (even the food) - in fact some of the views were phenomenal, over the London Eye and a lot of North London.

Simply because of all the people lying in the wards there. They all looked so ILL. Of course they were - I mean they had cancer. But they all were just clearly suffering so badly.

Which is why, when I sauntered in, a fresh-faced 23 year old with a full head of hair and a spring in my step, I felt a bit guilty.

I felt like I didn't belong.

I felt I should give away my "Get Well Soon!" bunch of balloons to someone more deserving.

Of course I didn't.

I also got my own room while most patients just had a curtain, which I found remarkable as I didn't feel ill. The whole "yeah Tom, you've got cancer by the way" hadn't really sunk in.

I wouldn't say I was ENJOYING the experience, but it was certainly a novelty. I had attractive nurses looking after me, pretty decent food three times a day and as much tea as I could drink. It wasn't the hardest life.

Admittedly it was quite boring, but at the same time it was very relaxing. I'd just come from the end of a long school term, and I was exhausted. Having my own bed to lie in, TV to watch, and not having to cook was pretty much all I wanted at that time.



After the first day or so, I started to get into a routine. I imagine this is how elderly retired people are - you have your set events in the day, and everything else fits around it.

It is disturbing how quickly you fall into routine in hospital though. I would look forward to hospital meals (to the astonishment of everyone I spoke to), simply because it was the next "event" in the day.

In between meals there wasn't a whole lot to do. Waiting around for doctors to come and have a look at me and tell me the next stage of diagnosis/treatment was a real treat(!), but didn't come along very often.

Aside from those two little highlights in your average day on Samaritan Ward, there wasn't a great deal.

Except television.

I don't watch much television normally. I'm ashamed to admit I do watch a couple of soap operas though.

I watch Neighbours, but the only reason really is because it's on when I eat lunch.

I watch Eastenders, but the only reason really is because it's on when I eat dinner.

When in hospital, these two became events in my diary.

Breakfast. Lunch. Neighbours. Dinner. Eastenders.



In this ward there was a sitting room area. It was pretty nice, with two leather sofas and a large armchair. There was a TV, a DVD player, a selection of books and magazines, and a toaster/fridge/microwave/kettle.

I would often watch television in this area, as it was more comfortable and I just got bored of sitting in bed all day.

Although I was a "cancer patient", I only started my chemo treatment right at the end of my week-long stay in Samaritan Ward.

For most of my time there I was as normal as if I'd been sitting at home. It was frustrating, feeling as if I should be doing something constructive and yet knowing I shouldn't (or couldn't be bothered).

I soon discovered that most of the time I would have the sitting room all to myself. I took it over with visitors on more than one occasion (what can I say - I'm just a popular guy and the ward couldn't contain my popularity).



Something that confused me was the pecking order of the sitting room. I'd often get there first in the day and retain control of the remote until I left at dinnertime. Cancer patients aren't the nimblest of people, especially when hooked up to one or two chemo machines.

Occasionally people would enter, but as long as I didn't make eye contact with them I was ok - they wouldn't ask if anything else was on or if I minded them watching a program they'd been looking forward to all week.

It really was survival of the fittest, and I was winning by a long shot. I thought I had it pegged.

Until I met the Alpha Male.



My first experience with him was on the first night I got there. I sauntered into the sitting room, expecting it to be empty as it had been on the three times I'd entered during the day.

A man was lying on the sofa. He looked about 40 or so, and like me also had his hair. This was the first sign that I might have competition (the bald cancer patients have been going through treatment longer, and so are meeker when it comes to who controls the television).

At the time I didn't realise this, so sat down on the sofa opposite. He ignored me, just as I had done to anyone else coming into the room when I was intent on retaining control.

I watched him. He was topless for some reason. He wasn't attached to an intravenous drip, so he could put on and take off tops just as easily as I could. I have no idea why he was topless.

He had a huge scar down the side of his chest though, and the only reason I could think of at the time was that he wanted to show it off (even on my first meeting with him I didn't like him much).

Every time he moved he let out a huge groan of pain though, so I did feel kind of sorry for him.

Not sorry enough to stop wishing he'd leave me in peace though.

Eastenders starts at 8pm on a Monday. It was only 7:30pm. There was still time.

The man was watching some crappy program with Alan Titchmarsh in. I tolerated it, but only because I didn't want to lose my spot in the queue for the remote. If I left that room, I knew I'd be usurped by another patient. They're like goddamn hermit crabs, the lot of them.

It got to 7:45pm. I was getting desperate.

I couldn't care less what happened in Eastenders. It was my "event" that was next to be ticked off in my diary though, and I wasn't going to skip one of my events just because this guy wanted to watch how best to put a shrubbery in your back garden.

It looked like the gardening thing was going to be finishing at 8pm.

"You never know Tom, he might want to watch Eastenders" I thought to myself.

It got to 7:55pm when I realised I was tapping my fingers on the edge of the sofa in nervousness. It had come down to a battle of the wills.

I noticed him glancing at my agitated fingers. I could have SWORN a smirk crossed his lips. I scowled at him (it was fine, he was still avoiding eye contact) and then noticed that it was 8pm.

He wasn't changing the channel.

The next program on was something about people with dirty kitchens.

"He can't seriously WANT to watch this"

"Oh Christ he's getting comfy"

"Why won't he just LEAVE?!"

I made the best of a bad situation. Maybe this program could be entertaining?

5 minutes in I realised it really really couldn't be entertaining.

I glanced at the guy again.

He was asleep.

Yes! This was my moment!

I stood up with the pretence of getting a drink from the sink there. If he woke up and wondered why I was leaning over him, I could just brandish my glass of water (and hopefully spill some on him in the process).

It was a simple enough manouvre. Move close enough, gingerly get the remote control from him, and move back to my seat. I'd have only missed 5 minutes of Eastenders, and I didn't even like it that much anyway. It was the principle of the thing.

I couldn't see it anywhere.

The guy had meanwhile rolled into the recovery position (kind of foetal) with his back to me.

He'd obviously got the remote under his slightly-overweight body.

Now this was a dilemma.

Did I wake him up? If I woke him up he might just go back to watching this program, and I'd be back to square one.

The more technical-minded amongst you are probably asking why I didn't just use the buttons on the television to switch channels.

There were no buttons. The remote control was the only way I could change channels.

I gave up. Feeling dejected and like a bit of a failure, I slunk back to my room and went to bed.



The next night I resolved to get in there before him. It was simple enough. The guy had a zimmerframe (even though he was 40 or so - I'm not sure why) and so if I heard him coming I could nip out.

As soon as I'd finished my dinner I took up prime spot number 1 in the sitting area. He didn't stand a chance. I had the Radio Times in front of me and I was ready for a good night of television watching of MY choice.

On a Tuesday Eastenders is on at 7:30pm. I was ready. I may be in hospital, I may have cancer, but I was determined to make the best of a bad situation.

At 7:25 I heard the sound of his zimmerframe coming down the ward.

"Screw you" I thought "I have cancer too, and tonight it's my turn to control the television."

It was simple enough.

Don't make eye contact with anyone who comes in, and they won't be able to initiate conversation. Not being able to initiate conversation means not having to hand over the remote!

The perfect plan.

Except when he sits down opposite, opens his legs, scratches his balls (I could see out of the corner of my eyes) and goes "Isn't the footie on ITV?"

I don't mind watching football if it's an international match for the World Cup or something. I enjoy those. Everything else I find really dull though.

I didn't know who was playing in "the footie" or whether it was an important game. I knew it wasn't the World Cup though, so it'd be something I didn't want to watch.

I couldn't say this though. Not liking football is something I suffered for at school. Not liking football makes you unmanly. The correct response, being a man, would be to pretend to enjoy it.

I wasn't going to admit I was a lesser man. I caved.

"Oh yeah - sorry!" I turned over to ITV.

Sure enough, there were a bunch of commentators all talking excitedly about someone being injured and someone else being picked. I stifled a yawn, then left. This game would take 90 minutes, by which time all the programs I wanted to watch would be over

Alpha Male 2-0 Tom



I feel I should defend myself here. I'm not as pathetic as it sounds. I wasn't sure how the pecking order worked though.

He also kept groaning in agony whenever he moved. Everything was a laboured effort for him. I felt pity for him as much as irritation.

In truth, I felt guilty for not being as ill as him and in as much pain as he was.

I'm sure most of you would do the same in my position.



The next night I checked my Radio Times. No football on.

He couldn't possibly beat me at television control. There was absolutely NOTHING worth watching on TV. Not even anything I wanted to watch.

I'd been bought 24 Series 1 to give me something to do. 24 is on a par in manliness with football, so maybe Alpha Male would join me in watching it.

It would involve commandeering the room AND commandeering the DVD player though. It was a risky operation.

Once I'd finished my dinner I made my way through there.

I didn't want to watch 24 straight away though. I put it on the side and went to get a drink. As I was moving through the ward I spied him watching me.

It was slightly unnerving, actually. He had a paper in front of him but he was quite clearly watching me leave the sitting room.

I grabbed my drink quickly and moved back. He remained lying on his bed, newspaper in hand.

After half an hour or so I decided it was time to put 24 on. Once it was on there was no way he'd ask to watch something else. I'd have control of the television and it would obviously be something I WANTED to watch.

I'd quickly go to the loo first.

As I left the area I saw him watching me again. He didn't move last time though, so maybe he was content with his newspaper.

I went into one of the toilet cubicles. As soon as I put the latch on the door, I heard the scraping sounds of his zimmerframe.

DAMN HIM.

I just couldn't wee fast enough. There was no way I'd be getting back in time, and I wasn't going to rush past this guy on a zimmerframe.

He knew it and I knew it. It was a competition. Yet again I'd been pipped to the post.

I moved back into the sitting room, and there he was, comfortably lying on the sofa again. Watching "Pets Do the Funniest Things".

The amount of anger and hatred in me at that moment was enough to make Darth Vader cry.

I picked up my 24 boxset, looked up at his smirking face, and left the room.

It was on. The game was on. Before I was pussyfooting around. This time we both knew it was a competition to win that Alpha Male title. I was damned if I was going to lose to him again.



Thursday came around. I'm going to emphasise here how there ISN'T A WHOLE LOT TO DO IN HOSPITAL. This guy was ruining my tickbox predictable days, and I was not happy about it. It needed to be fixed.

The layout of the ward was such that my room was closer than his bed to the sitting room area. This gave me a noticeable advantage.

The last two times I'd lost to him, even though I'd gone in before him.

I wanted to beat him and SHOW him I'd beaten him. Waiting before him clearly didn't work. He'd find a way around it.

I decided to wait for him to start scraping and clacking. He was pretty noisy with the zimmerframe, and also very slow. It would be easy.

I left my door open and read the paper.

The ward was incredibly quiet, so as soon as I heard scraping I was ready to move out and sidle in front of him. It would be a triumphant victory.

I heard footsteps, but no scraping.

Then the nurse came in.

"Hi Tom, mind if I do your blood pressure?"

This is a standard thing on wards. They come in every 2-3 hours and check your blood pressure and temperature. It only takes 30 seconds or so.

I held out my arm ready for the blood pressure, keeping one ear cocked for the sound of the scraping.

There it was.

The nurse was dawdling.

I couldn't very well go "actually can we do this in there" and rush out of the room in front of this guy.

I just had to hope he was slow enough for me to get this done and out of there.

Just as she finished doing it, and telling me "yep, you're fine!", he scraped past my room.

He stopped and looked in.

He smiled at me.

I nodded back at him.

He continued onto the sitting room.

He'd obviously been waiting for the nurse to come and do my blood pressure. I'd lost. AGAIN.

This was getting embarrassing. It was just unlucky though. It wouldn't happen again. I'd emerge triumphant. He'd won those battles but I'd win the war.



I'd do the same as the night before, but ensure I'd get in as soon as the nurse arrived, with some sort of request like "can we do it in there, I was about to watch TV".

Simple enough.

He wouldn't beat me this time.

I lay on my bed and did the sudoku from the paper. At the sound of the nurse's trolley or the guy scraping that sodding zimmerframe, I'd be THERE.

I was like a coiled spring.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted someone in the doorway.

IT WAS HIM.

IT WAS THE GUY.

How did I not hear him?!

I threw the paper on the ground (you have no idea how much I'd been planning for this - I even had been practicing my "smirk face" in the mirror to flaunt at him - I was so mad I'd been beaten AGAIN).

I followed him through and sat on the sofa opposite.

He was removing the socks from the legs on his zimmerframe.

He'd put SOCKS on it to stop me hearing him.

He looked up and winked at me.

I scowled back. I wasn't going to pretend this wasn't a private war between us.

The stakes were getting high.

I had to beat this guy at least once before I left the hospital. I couldn't let him beat me every single day. He had a ZIMMERFRAME. It was embarrassing.



Saturday arrived. There were higher stakes on.

The Apprentice was on.

The Apprentice is one of only a few television shows that I will fit my life around. I will tape it if not at home.

I even involved it in my Business Studies lessons.

This guy was NOT going to stop me watching it.

I finished my dinner and made my way through to the sitting room.

I was ready with the remote. He'd have to WRENCH it from me to get it off me.

It rolled around to 9pm.

The Apprentice started.

I'd won!

I'd beaten that zimmerframe using smarmy git!

YES!

I lay back, opened up the bag of grapes I'd been brought (original, I know) and prepared for an hour of Alan Sugar.

It was excellent. As always.

The Apprentice finished at 10pm and I flicked idly through the channels.

Now I'd beaten him the victory was a bit stale. He hadn't even come in to compete with me.



The nurse came in at 10:30pm to do my blood pressure.

I thought I'd ask after the guy. I did know his name, as I'd heard him speaking to a visitor two days ago. I just didn't like using it as I preferred to think of him as an anonymous nemesis.

"Where's John tonight?" I asked casually.

"John? How did you know him?"

I should have picked up on her sentence. I didn't.

"Oh, we've just seen each other in here a few times"

"John passed away this afternoon Tom... I'm sorry"

DAMN HIM.

My victory felt so hollow.
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Last edited by Tomkat; 2 Oct 2006 at 00:43.
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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 00:16   #2
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

you're a sad little man.
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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 00:22   #3
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

Nice story dude, but it sounds as if you have little/no assertiveness. I wouldn't have let him watch the football.
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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 00:29   #4
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

At least the battle gave you something to do :)
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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 00:40   #5
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

You could've talked to him instead of humiliating yourself
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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 02:43   #6
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

I find myself in the very sad position of agreeing with yahwe.....
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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 03:14   #7
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

Total anticlimax. I expected WW3.
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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 03:15   #8
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation



Sometimes the smallest things in life become the most important...then you realize how trivial it all is anyways, and are humbled.

That's what I got out of it.
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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 06:31   #9
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

I can sort of relate to these sorts of mind games. When I spent time in a psychiatric ward we had pecking orders and little personal wars too.

When I was first admitted to hospital I was a tad insane (obviously) so I didn't really get the game, or even know that a game was being played. People would get endless amusement from taking the piss out of me. They didn't call me names or anything, oh no, games in the loony bin are a tad more subtle than that. Instead they'd tell me stories about how they'd ended up in there. Getting into fights, stabbing people, shit like that. One woman even told me that her husband was a very jealous guy and he was going to beat me up for even talking to her. She even led me outside and told me to catch the first bus out of town. I almost did as well. Bitch!

Another time one guy messed with my head so much that I actually jumped over the fence (it was a low security ward), ran to the nearest police station (I asked for directions on my way there) and asked the nice policemen not to take me back to that scary hospital. Obviously they took me straight back. Everyone in the ward had a nice laugh over that one.

Then I started getting better...

It was then that I realised that they'd been playing me for a sucker all this time (about a week) and it was time for payback. They'd soon find out who the real alpha male was!

Now, one of the best ways to exert your dominance in a pyschiatric ward is to clear a room. Walk into a room where a number of patients are sitting (preferably the TV room) and within minutes make it so that you're the only one left in there. How you do this is really up to you. Some people do it through body language. ie sitting very close to people, leaning forward in an aggressive fashion, shit like that. That's for idiots I say, do it with banter! Just talk enough crap to people and eventually you'll mind fukk them so much they'd have to go to their room and lie down (or run outside and start screaming, doesn't really matter what they do as long as they leave the room).

One good thing about being mentally ill is that you can talk endlessly about pretty much anything. Obviously the people listening to you don't have much of an idea about what you're on about but it doesn't really matter cos it all makes perfect sense to you. So I'd sit there talking to people about any old crap. One of my favourite games was telling people how bad it was that I was stuck in that hospital and how I really wanted to get out (I was sectioned so legally I wasn't allowed out). Now, the reason I did this was to make them feel guilty about being there. Most if not all the patients were voluntary so they could leave any time. Obviously they didn't leave cos they were messed in the head, so me talking about how shitty my sectioned life was just made them feel bad about staying. I made a fair few women cry over that one (a couple of men too). All in good fun really.

One of my favourite moments was one night when I decided to watch TV for a while. I went in the TV room, some shit was on, I cleared the room with my usual tricks and got myself the remote. Not much was on so I decided to stick BBC News 24 on. As luck would have it this was the day when that school in Russia had been taken over by Chechnyan terrorists and that was pretty much the only story they were covering. Fine I thought, I'll watch this.

Now I must say that psychiatric patients don't tend to watch the news. Pretty much anything on TV that relates to the real world scares them. They'd much rather watch a soap or some other shit. Needless to say when the people started trickling back in to the TV room they weren't best pleased that I was watching News 24. I got a couple of hints from people wondering if something else was on but since nobody asked me outright to change the channel I thought I'd leave it. As people came in I'd explain to them in great detail what was going on and how the school was under siege and such. Being the mentally ill people that they were they didn't quite get that this was happening in Russia, they also didn't quite get that this was not happening in our very own hospital. People would storm out of the TV room and go ranting at the staff or have hysterical arguments with each other. One kid even threw a bottle of water at a fellow patient and got moved up to the high security ward that very same night. I watched all this in amusement.

So anyway, within a couple of days I'd pretty much shown them who the sheriff was in them there parts. Started getting a bit boring really. Once you've scared off someone for the 4th or 5th time you start wondering what the point of it all is.

Then I had my revelation.

Why mess with just the patients when you can mess with the staff too?

That's when the fun really began. Thing about the staff in a psychiatric ward is that they can't tell you what not to do. They're pretty useless really, they only intervene if you get physically abusive with someone. Rest of the time they pretty much stand there looking like lemons.

That pissed me off no end.

So I decided to get some payback on them too. I'd ask for my razor in the morning (they keep sharp things like that locked away), give it back, ask for it again, give it back, etc... I'd ask to use the exercise bike, stop after 5 minutes then ask again, then stop, etc.... Same thing with the playstation. I'd also talk to them for hours. Obviously it's a lot harder to mess with someone's head if they're not already mentally ill but I gave it a good go.

Also I'd do silly things like accuse a fellow patient of making me smoke some cannabis (screw with both patient and staff with that little number) and demand that I get tested for drugs on the spot.

One of my favourite tricks was demanding that I get a tribunal. Since I was sectioned I could get a hearing where if I was successful they'd unsection me . So I'd let the staff do all the necessary paperwork and then tell them "Actually, don't bother, I can't be arsed with it." One time I even let the lawyer come down to talk to me about it and talked shit to him for a while until he finally stormed off.

My hard work actually seemed to pay off. Staff were dropping like flies. People were taking days off left right and centre. Staff were being drafted in from adjacent wards, having to do double shifts just to cover for the people who weren't there.

So basically yeah, I was the alpha male.

Then one day the unthinkable happened.

A usurper to my throne was admitted into my ward

I won't bore you with the details about that though, I've written too much already.
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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 06:42   #10
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

It's amazing how predictable the ending was, the amount of build up and the tension, it was the only way I figured it was going to end. I can't imagine how guilty I would feel having a battle of wits with someone and thinking I won only to find out that I didn't really win, but my competition died.
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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 08:25   #11
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

Survival the the fittest and all?
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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 08:35   #12
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

Again,

Very good read Tomkat, maqybe you should write a book or something.

At least that old guy went out on top!!!
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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 13:10   #13
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

dace, tomkat has started to take your crown as 'the master of funny but unfortunate stories'
we need more dacian tales of woe, to get a competition going between the pair of you as to who is the funniest
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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 13:14   #14
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

I want ChubbyChecker to finish his story
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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 19:31   #15
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

nice one. Perhaps you should at least start a blog ?
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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 19:32   #16
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

that was probably the most pathetic cry for help i ever heard
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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 20:53   #17
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Exclamation Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

Quote:
Originally Posted by Chika
At least that old guy went out on top!!!
Indeed. In that context, TK's buffoonery was an act of kindness!
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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 22:42   #18
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

Quote:
Originally Posted by Tomkat
My victory felt so hollow.
Screw that! A win's a win!

The bastard could have been burried with the remote and then you would have lost.

Oh, by the way, I was interested to see that you were in Guys Hospital. All along I had thought it was GAY'S Hospital. With the story and all, was the Guys Hospital just a typo?
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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 22:45   #19
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

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that was probably the most pathetic cry for help i ever heard
Does being shit at the internet come naturally to you?
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Unread 2 Oct 2006, 22:47   #20
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

tk wins at life, who'd have thunk it?
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Unread 3 Oct 2006, 06:00   #21
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

Quote:
Originally Posted by Ste
I want ChubbyChecker to finish his story

If you insist...

Basically one night I wasn't feeling too good. I was in my room thinking my internal organs were going to come flying out of my mouth or some such when I heard some raised voices outside in the corridor. At first I ignored it but it just went on, and on.... and on! Eventually I figured that being the sheriff and all I might as well go have a look at what the disturbance was.

I went out and saw a couple of policemen, some staff and some guy I'd never met before. The guy was complaining about something. I soon realised that he'd just been admitted into the ward (the policemen brought him in) and he was just rather excitable as many patients are when they first come in. Never mind I shrugged, he'll have calmed down by morning.

How wrong I was.

Next day I see him talking to some patients, seems fine. So I go outside to roll myself a fag and he comes out. He introduces himself to me and starts going on at great length about how he'd been brought in the night before and how embarassing it was and blah, blah, blah. The guy just wouldn't shut up. Eventually I make some excuse and leave.

Hang on a second I think, running off is what other people do, the alpha male's not supposed to do that kind of shit! It was then that I realised that I had some competition and it was time to up my game.

Anyway, after a day or so of this guy's shit I decide that enough is enough and it's time to make a stand. So I plonk myself in front of the TV (I was feeling generous that night so I just let the other patients watch whatever soap it was that they were watching) and wait for the inevitable. Soon enough my nemesis arrives and sits himself next to me. He starts talking. This is it I think, time to make a stand.

I tried to engage him in conversation but he just wouldn't let me. Every time I'd say something he'd just interrupt and go on about something else. I found out a lot about him, like he served in the army for 30 years and other useless information. I gave it my best shot, I really did. For 6 hours I sat there while he rabbited on, 6 hours! Eventually I went to the toilet and on my way back (I wasn't beaten, or at least I thougnt I wasn't) I suffered some sort of panic attack. I literally thought that my head was about to explode (probably cos of all that useless information that had been crammed into it over the last six hours) and ran to the staff to give me some meds, anything. They gave me some tranquilisers in the end, after much begging from me. Looks like he beat me fair and square.

To be honest I don't really know how things would have turned out between us. I did get used to him in the end but I never was able to control him the same way I controlled the rest of the patients. We even became friends, sort of. Thing is though I was transferred to another ward (closer to my house) a few days later so I never did get the chance to beat him. He was actually quite sad that I was leaving. Not surprising really since I was the only patient there who could sit next to him for more than five minutes.

At least in the new ward I became the dominant male once again...
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Unread 3 Oct 2006, 10:44   #22
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

Both entertaining stories.

Chubby, your sounds kinda One Flew Over The Cookoo's Nest'ish lol
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Unread 3 Oct 2006, 11:10   #23
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

Quote:
Originally Posted by Yahwe
you're a sad little man.
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Unread 4 Oct 2006, 05:30   #24
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

Quote:
Originally Posted by djbass
Both entertaining stories.

Chubby, your sounds kinda One Flew Over The Cookoo's Nest'ish lol
heh, yeah, I can relate to a lot of what happens in that book.

To be honest I was such a prick during my time in hospital I'm surprised they didn't give me a lobotomy
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Unread 4 Oct 2006, 15:58   #25
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Re: The Alpha Male Confrontation

This story in less words:

"I hate sharing."

Quote:
Originally Posted by Yahwe
you're a sad little man.
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