PART 1
It was no wonder my opponent won the contest this past
Saturday, having a several thousand pound weight
advantage on me. Crossing 24th Street at Bartlett in
the crosswalk, I had safely made it to the middle of
the near lane when the speeding gas-guzzler surprise
attacked me from my left, sending me over its hood and
crashing into the windshield with my head, upon which
the glass partly collapsed directly in front of the
driver. Apparently, not expecting a visitor, he hit
the brakes and sent me flying 10 feet through the air.
I landed on my left elbow and the back of my head to
cushion my fall on the pavement. All of this
excitement was a bit too much stimulation for my
consciousness, which decided to check out.
While I couldn’t be certain, the man questioning me
apparently was not St. Peter. The faces of the
inquisition hovered over me. I couldn’t determine
whether the lead interrogator’s questions were simple
or metaphysical. “Do you know who you are?"
“Robert Harrison.”
“Where are you?” Perhaps they were lost. Well, I
certainly wasn’t the best person to ask, given that I
was lying somewhat uncomfortably on my back on the
pavement and couldn’t get a good perspective on my
surroundings.
“The Mission district of San Francisco.” It seemed
that this was exactly the answer another vociferous
man wanted to hear.
““You’re fine. Get Up!”
“Lead interrogator: “Don’t move; I’m calling an
ambulance.”
“The vociferous man, apparently the driver of the
vehicle, disagreed with the first man.
“C’mon, you’re fine. You don’t need an ambulance.
Stand up. Stand UP!” While I appreciated his
optimism, several less partial observers dissented.
The EMTs strapped me to a straight board, loaded me
into the back of the ambulance, and sped towards the
hospital. While I was hooked up to an IV and had an
oxygen mask strapped to my face, I was subjected to
more remedial questions. Once again, I must have
answered correctly, for I was awarded the grand prize
in the ER. Still strapped down, no less than three
beautiful woman literally tore my off my pants and
started touching me all over. Yes, despite the
less-than-beautifying effects of the oxygen mask and
two Ivs, they could not control themselves. However,
you probably recall that I am already quite happily in
love with my devoted woman-friend, Amy. Amy has a
sixth sense for danger. I guess she sensed that three
women were tearing off my clothes and touching my
naked body as I lay helpless to resist. She promptly
rushed to the ER to put an end to it. She did however
approve of male-doctor-administered X-rays, CAT-scans,
and some impressive machine that pinged. The X-rays
revealed that I had luckily escaped with merely a
sprained leg. I held my breath for the results of
the CAT-scan tests... It was a miracle! Despite
having enjoyed hundreds of Grateful Dead concerts, the
doctor proclaimed my brain to be fully functioning.
Thus having passed all of these tests and the approval
of the machine that pinged, I earned some Percosets
and a shot of morphine (probably administered to
prevent me from telling any more ER jokes to the
attendant RN). Today, I’m in pretty good shape,
hobbling around on crutches and suffering only from
unknown damage to my left knee. I go in for ligament
tests tomorrow. I don’t know what the prize may be,
but I hope that I pass again.
Knocking on pavement,
Rob
PART 2
Ah yes, my armpits are much happier today. Upon my
visit to the orthopedic specialist, he placed the palm
of his hand on my forehead and declared, "Heal!"
"Heal, I say, and cast aside these crutches, for The
Almighty will not let you fall if you believe in him!"
Well, maybe not exactly like that, but the doctor
torqued my leg and, without benefit of an expensive
machine that goes "ping" declared that I'm only
temporarily afflicted with a mere case of tendonitis
and strained ligaments. Yes, I'm now ambulating like
any other regular guy with strained knee ligaments
who was hit by an oversized american car 11 days ago.
In short–as I walk with one leg bent more than the
other–I'm walking in circles, circumnavigating, if
you will. So much for any big lawsuit, but I'll take
what I have and run with it.
Psyched,
Rob
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