People I'm Glad I'm Not
Wow. Ever have one of those evenings that starts out normal, and then takes a turn straight down the mineshaft, leading you to wonder just when you bought yourself an all-day pass to the freak show?
Yeah.
Last night as Sargon and I were passing the Bama pie factory on the way home from the store, I swerved to avoid something in the road -- a hat and white cane.
"Holy shit," I exclaimed. "Was that some blind guy's stuff in the middle of the road?"
There was a guy lying beside the bus stop sign about five feet away. Concerned, we turned right around and headed back to the scene. I stayed with the car and the cell phone while Sargon went to investigate, since this was late at night and this guy was, like, 250 pounds and might have been crazy -- you never can tell.
I watched in the rearview mirror as he grabbed stick and hat, and brought them back to the guy, who by this time was rolling back and forth on the ground. He looked fine, but wasn't rational at all, and kept saying that he wanted to die. Well, we called an ambulance, since he might've been hit by a car.
Sargon, trying to keep him calm, handed him his stick, whereupon he tried to choke himself to death with the lanyard.
The emergency worker's exact words were "What the fuck? Stop that shit!"
Pretty much my assessment.
They rooted out some ID, took a statement from my husband, and carried the blind guy away, but he was pretty clearly batshit, or so far gone suicidal that he was the next thing to it. I can only hope they manage to help the guy somehow, 'cause, man, I feel bad for anyone with that much despair.
It was all really weird and disturbing, and of course this dose of extra-strength crazy came on top of a day of dealing with complete morons online and in real life, so I was already feeling my last shred of sanity fluttering on the barbed-wire fence of life.
In good news, I just checked my numbers and I wrote over 3,000 words yesterday. If I bust my ass, I can crack 50,000 on this thing sometime tomorrow. Yay me!
Anyway, I'm off to try to donate blood again. Here's hoping I don't hurl or pass out when they stick the needle in.
Yeah.
Last night as Sargon and I were passing the Bama pie factory on the way home from the store, I swerved to avoid something in the road -- a hat and white cane.
"Holy shit," I exclaimed. "Was that some blind guy's stuff in the middle of the road?"
There was a guy lying beside the bus stop sign about five feet away. Concerned, we turned right around and headed back to the scene. I stayed with the car and the cell phone while Sargon went to investigate, since this was late at night and this guy was, like, 250 pounds and might have been crazy -- you never can tell.
I watched in the rearview mirror as he grabbed stick and hat, and brought them back to the guy, who by this time was rolling back and forth on the ground. He looked fine, but wasn't rational at all, and kept saying that he wanted to die. Well, we called an ambulance, since he might've been hit by a car.
Sargon, trying to keep him calm, handed him his stick, whereupon he tried to choke himself to death with the lanyard.
The emergency worker's exact words were "What the fuck? Stop that shit!"
Pretty much my assessment.
They rooted out some ID, took a statement from my husband, and carried the blind guy away, but he was pretty clearly batshit, or so far gone suicidal that he was the next thing to it. I can only hope they manage to help the guy somehow, 'cause, man, I feel bad for anyone with that much despair.
It was all really weird and disturbing, and of course this dose of extra-strength crazy came on top of a day of dealing with complete morons online and in real life, so I was already feeling my last shred of sanity fluttering on the barbed-wire fence of life.
In good news, I just checked my numbers and I wrote over 3,000 words yesterday. If I bust my ass, I can crack 50,000 on this thing sometime tomorrow. Yay me!
Anyway, I'm off to try to donate blood again. Here's hoping I don't hurl or pass out when they stick the needle in.