The kid with the bloody finger...
SO... today I left work to come home and cash a check before the banks close... nothing too exciting. But when I enter the local Chase Bank the usual air of "hurry the fuck up, we're almost closed" was not there... instead, a small huddle of people surrounded what appeared to be some trapped and feral animal in the corner. In any event... it was something in pain.
Well, in being the busy-body that I am in these events, I of course walk over and use the tried and true "Excuse me, I have some medical training from the Army" (SOME... I didn't say a lot. I just wanted to see what was up)... Well, they sure trust a man in a past-tense uniform. BEHOLD THE ANIMAL!!! ....Turns out, it was not a wild animal, but a child. A small boy who had been playing with the clasps on the end of the "magic lane ropes" of the bank line... Well, I'm not sure how A led to B... but all I know is that there was a significant amount of blood on the floor and the child was screaming like he'd been given a swift beating by an ex-con.
The child extended his hand and removed the wad of paper-towels... And I draw back in abhorrent fear of the mangled piece of flesh that was once this boy's fingertip and quickly think [HOLY SHIT!] - but my mouth simply stated "Yeah, you're going to need to get him to the ER..." ['cause, well... I'm not fucking touching that shit.]
From here, our problem descends into madness when the feral boy is being scolded by his loving mother to STFU because she is afraid... the mom and the boy do not speak the best English. And my Hindi is not what it once was... well, Actually it IS what it once was, which is nothing. SO... We (me and the bank teller) draw them a map to St. Francis ER... but I think they would rather not go. So, she instead waits for her sister to arrive... and make a deposit... before they leave the bank. A family that banks together... bleeds together?
I then proceed to get my check cashed and turn to leave... noticing the bright, bold red droplets adorning the white, tile floor of the bank. "Y'all may want to invest in some bleach."
The end.
Well, in being the busy-body that I am in these events, I of course walk over and use the tried and true "Excuse me, I have some medical training from the Army" (SOME... I didn't say a lot. I just wanted to see what was up)... Well, they sure trust a man in a past-tense uniform. BEHOLD THE ANIMAL!!! ....Turns out, it was not a wild animal, but a child. A small boy who had been playing with the clasps on the end of the "magic lane ropes" of the bank line... Well, I'm not sure how A led to B... but all I know is that there was a significant amount of blood on the floor and the child was screaming like he'd been given a swift beating by an ex-con.
The child extended his hand and removed the wad of paper-towels... And I draw back in abhorrent fear of the mangled piece of flesh that was once this boy's fingertip and quickly think [HOLY SHIT!] - but my mouth simply stated "Yeah, you're going to need to get him to the ER..." ['cause, well... I'm not fucking touching that shit.]
From here, our problem descends into madness when the feral boy is being scolded by his loving mother to STFU because she is afraid... the mom and the boy do not speak the best English. And my Hindi is not what it once was... well, Actually it IS what it once was, which is nothing. SO... We (me and the bank teller) draw them a map to St. Francis ER... but I think they would rather not go. So, she instead waits for her sister to arrive... and make a deposit... before they leave the bank. A family that banks together... bleeds together?
I then proceed to get my check cashed and turn to leave... noticing the bright, bold red droplets adorning the white, tile floor of the bank. "Y'all may want to invest in some bleach."
The end.