Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Lights and Sirens

Fresh back from our vigorous 5am exercise in the dark, 80 degree, 91% humidity temp. R and I were checking our email, finishing up our coffee. I had just made our protein shakes. When all hell broke loose. Firetrucks and an ambulance came charging up our street and stopped. Right in front of the building with all of the pretty twenty year olds.

R said "aren't you glad we don't live across the street from an old peoples home." But I was alarmed. The pretty people, what could have possibly happened. His response, while still reading and drinking his shake, "cocaine, there's a lot of cocaine in that building." Really?? I'm not convinced, but have always been a bit naive when it came to such things.

I don't want to be carried out of my home on a stretcher. If I'm sick, I don't want to be so sick that I can't say, hey, not well, please drive me to the hospital. I don't want it to come down to an ambulance and fire truck. You're fucked if it comes down to that aren't you? I mean, not every time, but generally speaking. Then the worst thing ever happened. The stretcher came out, loaded with a person, and no one was in a hurry. They took their sweet time loading the ambulance, and when they left, they didn't turn the siren on. Damn. I wonder if there is a dog over there now without a pretty person to walk it.

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