Using My First Responder Skills in Action!

I dragged my ass out of bed this morning at 6:30 after tossing and turning all night in the hot air. It was hazy, and the sun had already begun it's slow ascent over the Atlantic Ocean's distant horizon. I woke up Chris T. to get on the road toward Logan so he could catch his flight to Texas on time. The commute to Logan went as planned, and with a little bit of traffic, we got to logan at around 7:15. So I stepped out of car to help him get his stuff, and gave him a big brotherly hug and wished him well.

The ride home was nice, and all the traffic was on the other side of the road headed into Boston. All the people who had fallen into the capitalist system were roasting in their suits driving their sedans to work. As I hit 80 miles an hour down the lynnway in the opposite direction. I was driving fast, and was unofficially playing with a girl in a bmw headed in the same direction. We both weaved in and out of the sparse traffic, and gave eachother quick glances when we ended up at red lights. She was totally checking me out. So I hit the gas and beat her to Lynn Shore Drive where the 3 lanes move into 1 and the speed limit goes back down to 30 miles an hour.

So my fun was over, and I headed back toward Marblehead. But As I crested the hill by Fisherman's beach near Popo's hot dogs, I saw a body fly through the air in the distance. About 50 yards ahead of me a woman had opened her door, and a cyclist smashed into it at full speed and flew through the air, landing right on her head. It was an awesome fall, but she was in pain and I could tell from where I was that she could have seriously hurt her head and neck. So my lifeguard instinct kicked in, and I drove up and parked right behind the lady's car. A small crowd had gathered around the woman who was writhing in pain, so I grabbed my phone, jumped out, and immediately yelled that I was trained in first aid.

The flood of people split into two, and I gained a perfect path right up to the lady where I rushed up, all while assesing the scene. She was in the road with lots of traffic, but I didn't want to move her because of her possible head/neck injury. So I rushed up and went over the basics with her, she was conscious, but obviously concussed (I knew that just because of my experience with concussions) and was in a lot of pain at her hip. But there was one more thing... she didn't speak a word of English... and I have no spanish linguistic knowledge whatsoever except how to say "bitch" "faggot" and "Shut the fuck up" which i picked up while working in a kitchen all last year.

Meanwhile the lady who opened the door was hysterical, and kept rushing up to try to touch her hand or arm, and I kept having to repeat that she had to step back, on account of liability. So I decided, that this lady needed more help than I was capable of, so I whipped out the cell, and dialed in the 911. Right before this I told a man to kneel by the lady and tell her to stay on her back. Because he looked mexican and possibly knew spanish. which he did, and it was awesome.

so i stood in traffic, guiding it around the scene, while on the phone with the 911 dispatcher telling them the location. After about 2 minutes two cop cars showed up, and I pointed them in the direction of the victim, while the other one came over to ask me what had happened.

The cop went over the what had happened part, and I told everything I saw, pointed out the lady who opened the door, and told him everything that I observed in the woman's condition. After that he said thank you and everything, and then told me that he could stop traffic and let me get out of the way before the ambulance blocked me in. I got in my vehicle, and began to pull out and he walked back over and said. "I couldn't help but notice that you aren't wearing any shoes." I looked at my feet, and sure enough, I hadn't put my shoes that morning.

So in the end, the woman was taken to the hospital and I think they said she fractured her hip and got a head injury.

Bonnie's Apartment

When I was just a wee tyke, my parents decided to move from Salem into Marblehead with our family. Instead of selling the old house we were living in, My dad changed it into a 3 family apartment house, and since that fateful decision the house has become our burden. With a single nurse living on the first floor, a small family on the second, and an older woman on the third.

One way we judge the seasons is by the request of installation or removal of the single nurses' (Bonnie) air conditioners. In the Spring when she calls to tell us to install these units, we officially make it summer in our household. When she asks for them out, we take our boat out of the water, and it's fall.

Installing Bonnie's air conditioner is quite a process. My father and I get out of our car, and open up the door to the dank, musty basement where the air seems five times thicker than that of the surface air. We carry two heavy air conditioners up steep stairs through a doorway that it doesn't quite fit through. When we open up the door to Bonnie's apartment, we immediately have to close it, because every time we forget about the amount of felines trying to get out of the door. So after shooing away 7 to 8 cats, we get the air conditioners in the kitchen. The kitchen smells heavily of catfood, and instantaneously, our noses and eyes are itchy. But you see, the Kitchen is the best part of the house. It actually has a little bit of space around the cat scratchers. As I enter the living room, my fingers begin to tingle with the feeling that I'm being watched, and as I survey the room, I see thousands of small dolls. Perched on walls, and all over bookshelves. Carolers, to American Girls, to strange chinese porcelain face dolls. Every one of them is staring. There are actually so many dolls and knick knacks all around the rooms, that there are only small paths from the couch, to the bedroom and kitchen. Making access to the window nearly impossible. My father slowly squirms through the ranks of doll corps to the window while I guide him. Like a human twist on the milton-bradley game "Operation". Things are going well and we get the air conditioner installed. After my father does anything, he steps back to look at it. This is instinct, that he has been doing for years, to analyze if anything needs to be adjusted. When this instinct hits him, he forgets that he is surrounded by many breakables. I watch him in slow motion back into a set of cow sculptures in various corny poses. Before I can utter a word, they fall. My dad panics, and turns around to see what he hit. But in the process, hits over more breakables, and turns again to see what that was until a chain reaction occurs, and before 13 seconds pass, he has gone through a full day's worth of sales at The Christmas Tree Shop on route 1. Eventually I yell to him to just stop moving. We pick up the pieces of doll, and finagle them into positions that make them look normal, and take home the ones that are beyond repair.

We pray to God that Bonnie didn't notice.

What am I doing right now...

As the clock nears two A.M. on a Friday morning I'm sitting in my chair in the corner of my room, and wondering what to do. I have been having trouble sleeping, yet I'm constantly tired.

One thing I've noticed over the past few months is how bad old people are at performing the simplest tasks. When I had my job at Shubies, there was an old witch of a woman with long white hair, and a pointy nose who would wear crazy clothes and take at least an hour to get through the store on her walker. She was using a walker. One day as I was on my break out back of the store, I watched this old woman leave, and get into her car, and drive away. The only thing I could think of is "Who in the world would let this woman have her license" she definetly can't see past the hood and probaly has the reaction time of a sloth with downs. In the end I hate old people.

Recently things in my life have been: weds. night sailing. Terminator salvation. wishing the weather was nice.

My Wisdom Tooth Enlightening.

I spun around in circles as a video about wisdom tooth extraction blared aimlessly in the background of my mind. The room smelt oddly of cleanliness. A smell that I am clearly not used to. my view shifted from video, to window, to wall, to large green dentists chair, back to video as my revolutions increased in speed and my sounds of "wheeeeeee" got louder and louder. I was finally at my wisdom tooth extraction consultation. An appointment I had been skipping for no longer than 3 and a half years. The surgeon finally entered the room as I came to the apex of my last spin, and had to stop awkwardly so as he wouldn't see what a god damned child I was at twenty years of age. He walked in with a blatant jewish background and introduced himself. I didn't give two shits to even try to remember his name. He exclaimed that the video that was put on was not exactly truthful, because it just tells patients that they were going to die pretty much. I remembered it saying something along the lines of a risk of death, and I told him that if I died during my wisdom tooth extraction, then it would just completely sum up how terribly ridiculous my life is. He didn't laugh.

The surgeon brought up my x-rays onto the screen. I was trying to remember his name, so I just thought up the most jewish thing possible. My brain jumped to Kenny Steinberger. I addressed him as Steiny the rest of the day. but as I stared at the cross section of my head, I realized something. Steiny was saying something, but who really cares? am I right? I mean he is just a failed orthropeadist trying to become the med school success story of his crappy family out of brookline... or so i'm guessing. But it then occured to me, that my bottom wisdom teeth are fucked, and need to leave my head. Which is understandable. Anything growing through my skull sideways has got to leave... but my superior wisdom teeth are absolutely fine. no problems, no cysts, not holes, no nothing. They're just growing in as plain as day. Now here is where things clicked. Why the hell would I have to get those out too!? There is absolutely nothing wrong with them. Theyre just teeth that happen to be in the way back of my head, mad close to my brain... AHA! MY BRAIN!!!! THEY'RE TRYING TO GET TO MY BRAIN!!! Suddenly the office was 25 degrees hotter, I felt dizzy, and This jewish assholes words were started to become more clear. I realized Wisdom tooth extraction is a government plot to implant a tracking bug into your brain. And I knew that this rat was in on the whole deal.

So May 27th, I will become sedated, drugged, and violated as this prick sticks a government tracking bug so close to my brain, that Obama can now know what I see, Think, Feel, Touch, Taste, and even do. Wisdom tooth extraction is all the government trying to get into our heads.