The Avengers Forever: Detail Point

	Trivia Overload

True story.

When I was but 24 years of age, I broke my arm while arm wrestling. (Yes, it can—and did—happen.)

While I was still conscious, courtesy of natural endomorphins, a colleague rushed me to the hospital. At the reception desk, the infuriatingly indifferent receptionist asked me what brought me here today. I answered, "My arm is broken." To which she responded, "How do you know?" Without blinking, I replied, "It's my arm."

At this point my endomorphins had run dry, and as I began to turn white and pass out, the colleague who brought me in sternly advised the receptionist, "He broke his arm, and he's about to pass out. You'd better get him into emergency right now."

And indeed, as the room began to rotate wildly around me, some frantic emergency personnel rushed a gurney into the reception room, kindly placed me on it, and wheeled me away.

There's so much more to this one experience that I could almost turn it into a book, but this was the relevant part. And to this day I have a monstrous scar on my arm, where a brilliant young orthopedic surgeon made his repairs, to remind me of the misadventure.

—David K. Smith