We should never have gone to that nightclub. It had to be a contributing factor to the accident the next morning on the building site. Max and I and our partners had decided to have a bit of a night out at one of the new clubs in our city. Even though we had the best intentions of not having too much to drink and being home at a reasonable hour, our good idea got washed away with too many shooters and some fancy cocktails. Don’t mix drinks when you’re having a night out, so we stayed off the beer. Probably a bad idea.

While clubbing hasn’t been on my recreational list for quite a while, I don’t mind the occasional evening of having 120Db hammering away into my brain.  It’s also healthy to replace some lost liquids in your body and moving that body in some gyrating and jumping motions that came close to ‘dancing’.

So there we were, having a darn good time. Max, his partner Jane, me and my fiancée Jaz, and about 300 others packed into Rapscallions Nightclub in the city. Even though we had vowed to just have a couple, we had not driven there but taken a taxi. Max and I were both carpenters working on a new housing project in the outer suburbs and the heat was on to finish the homes as quickly as possible. Well, time is money, right?

The time rolled on past 1 am and we had just a bit too much to drink. The music had been great but we were getting tired after the dancing and the elbowing you had to do to get to the bar to order a drink. We needed to be on the job at 7 am. Hoo boy! I finally got to bed at about 2 am and I assume Max did as well. He doesn’t live that far from me. In the morning, I drove to his place, which was a bit risky as I was probably going to register more than 0.05 on the breathalyser if stopped. But how many cops are around at 7 am on a Sunday morning?

We reached the building site in reasonable time. We had wall frames to put up and I was doing the setting up of the timber pieces and Max was using the framing nail gun to put them together. We were onto the second frame and making measurements and cuts to fit the door frame. The nails here had to be popped in on an angle as well. Not sure what happened, but Max let out a scream of pain, the nail gun dropped to the ground and there he was hopping around on one foot. A nail was sticking out of his boot and some blood was already pooling around the entry hole. No doubt about it. Power tools and a power night out just don’t mix!