Years back when I was working I had an accident with flap sanding wheel on a hand held grinder, don't ask, the result was I flayed the knuckle on my index finger(non shooting hand thankfully) and drove myself to the ER with my hand wrapped up, after two hours of waiting while they took in many of dubious legality with coughs I had had enough, I went back up to check in window and started unwrapping my hand and when the women asked what I was doing I told her that apparently I would have to be bleeding all over the waiting room to be considered urgent so I was going to do my best to comply. I was seen very quickly after that, you wouldn't believe that they could fit 27 stitches into a knuckle.
In my bad old days I laid down the Hog and my face came close enough to the road that my glasses frame caught the pavement while I was sliding along reviewing braking technique on newly wet pavement. the result was a bit too much cut under my eye for a band aid, and knowing I'd have to go get sewed up. Well, I rode the bike home, called a cab, and took my cut face and scraped up knuckles to the ER. After being repeatedly questioned about fighting, I managed to get the folks there to calm down and believe I had fallen down (which was true, I just didn't give them
all the details).
Into the treatment room I go, sit on the exam table, and this little doctor comes in.
Now, I'm sitting there in my full biker glory, just home from a three day charity run, still in my leathers, smelling of old beer and sweat, grubby from road grime, and at least a head and shoulders taller than the doctor, who got right up in my face and said with an Indian (dot not feather) accent "I think you've been fighting."
"No, Doc, just like I told the lady, I had my hands full, and I fell down."
"I still think you've been fighting."
Calmly, gently, "No Doc, just like I told the lady out front, I fell down."
Again, back in my face, "I still think you've been fighting".
About then I had a flash of the image I was projecting, being so clean, well dressed, and all, so I looked right through the back of his eye sockets and told him in a low growl, "Shut the f**k up and sew up my face."
He did a great job!