They wanted me to go to the hospital. I didn't want anything to do with that "sterile" piece of crap they call the best in the west. But of course, being a hit and run victim, I had to go. The only fun part about the whole night was getting to ride in a speeding cop car while I felt woozily. That's when I realized, my arm was bleeding and that sticky stuff I had been feeling all night, was blood. A nurse checked me out and cleaned me up, then what they call a professional doctor came and sealed my laceration with some glue, gave me pain killers(hallelujah!), and sent me on my way home. He told me to take the next three weeks off from work to let my arm rest. Then he wants me to come back to see how the wound is doing and to refill the prescription; if needed. Oh yes, I think I will be needing a refill.
The whole way there, I was thinking about what I should do. I would be called in a couple days to come and testify in court, I'd need to go through a huge legal process I couldn't possibly afford, and win my lawyer a lot of money. Supposedly, the only thing I'd get out of this huge mess is a headache, a pat on the head, and the gratification that I caught who wronged me and put him in jail. Does that sound that rewarding to you? Certainly not to me! I have an apartment that requires me to pay 900 dollars a month, a job I need to get to, a car I need to buy, another job I need to keep up with, and my cat to feed. Oh right, I need to eat too. Look at that list. It's more endless than I had originally thought.
When I finally made it back to the place I call home, I found myself digging into the corner of my right jean pocket. My oily fingers had left an imprint on the far edges of the once fresh pressed business card of a Mister Rick Loren. That's right, I held onto it as the cops asked me question after question after retarded question. I wonder what he thought of me, he probably just saw me as another case that he could easily win. Well, what If I don't have any money to give him? What If I couldn't possibly be his client...and I'd have to use a lawyer provided by the state? Psh, I'd loose then. That's what if.
My mind fell into a boarder-line state of panic. Should I call him? What should I do? I don't really want to make a big deal out of it. Would I really be able to do something like, testify in court? Man was I full of questions and had no one to ask. Well...maybe Rick...
I sighed. I sighed many times in a row before I realized I was just sitting around and sighing. What was wrong with me? Oh right, I was just hit by a car.
"Man. I don't know." I muttered out loud to myself. I finally put the card down on the dining room table along with everything else I was carrying and walked the couple of feet that it is to my room. I slowly sat down on the bed, kicked my shoes off, removed my clothes very carefully, and slowly laid down on my bed.
As I was laying there, many a thing ran through my head. Maybe I should have taken the bus. Or that cab. Or the ride my co-worker offered me. Or the million and one hints that couldn't have been missed by any other person but stupid 'ol me.
"Jerry...." I wined a couple of times really pathetic like. A couple of minutes later I heard a familiar jingle. "Jeeerrryy..." I wined again until I felt him pounce on my stomach. Oof. A 10 pound cat jumping on my stomach. No feel good.
I slowly let out the breath that I was holding and avoided a sigh all together. "Jerry, Don't get hit by a car. It hurts."
I watched him stare at me. At that moment, I felt like he was saying, "No duh, You moron."