You want to know how I got this scar?

I was talking to Shoelace on the bus today. We bus home together in the afternoons. Well, we bus home together every day we don't have sport, or other commitments. That comes out to about two or three days a week. But it still counts.

She had, in a moment of typical generosity, taken the last seat available, leaving me to stand up. I was telling her about my current Media project when she interrupted.  I hoped she was going to ask a relevant question. Instead she said 'How did you get that scar on your chin?'

Seeing as I've known her for something like three years now, I'm surprised it's taken her this long to notice it. Still, I suppose the bus seat gave her a vantage point that was far lower than she's previously had, and so better equipped her to see the scar.

I actually got my scar about seven or eight years ago, when I was seven or eight. I went round a corner far too fast on my bike, fell over, and somehow managed to land on my chin. Even I can't remember how I did it (although I seem to have a knack for injuring strange places; a few weeks ago I fell over [it was Gwen's fault] and managed to injure the backs of my hands. Just the backs. The palms were barely touched). I do remember being extraordinarily pissed off that the flowery leggings I was wearing at the time had a hole in them, thanks to being scraped along the ground. Obviously having to go to hospital and get stitches in my chin, then having to spend a year in bed ( I was seven: it was probably a week, but it felt like a year) was far less important than this. The story ends with me, scarred for life with a kind of squiggle under my chin, and my leggings, considerably improved with an awesome patch sewn over one knee.

Obviously this story is not interesting enough for social occasions, so I gave Shoelace the answer I normally give to people under these circumstances, which is 'I had a freak accident with a tuna fish.'

She was intrigued. 'How long ago was this?'

I, unsure how I'd manage to carry this off, went 'Oh, about two years ago.'

'Two years? I should have noticed it before! Wait, how did you manage to cut yourself on a tuna fish?'

Come to think of it, I wasn't totally sure. Time for some creative improvisation. 'I was swimming in the sea when I came up rather sharply behind this tuna fish. They have incredibly sharp tails. And so, I was given this cut on my chin. You see how it's kind of wobbly? That's because tuna don't have straight tails.'

'That's incredibly lucky. Imagine, if it had been somewhere else on your face, you might have been scarred for life on your cheek or something.'

I didn't think I could carry it off much longer. Honestly, I've never been that good at keeping a straight face. 'That wasn't true.'

'What?'

'I fell off my bike a few years ago and was scarred. Did you believe me?'

'Um . . . of course not.'

'You know that 'gullible' is written on the ceiling?'

'Shut up!'

And she changed the subject rather hastily, and began talking about how she'd made a cake that weekend instead.