Another Mergency Room Tale
 
Author: Fatty C.
Email: FattyC@newsguy.com
Date: 1998/09/10
Forums: alt.tasteless 

I had occasion to visit some old college friends over the weekend, and
was reminded of an incident that occurred way back when.  Occasionally
I have moments where I regret the fact that I never have a camera
handy.  This was one of those.  I'll attempt to do it justice.

I spent my undergrad years at Auburn University in Alabama.  The city
of Auburn is very nice (population about 60,000 when school is in
session) but the outlying areas of Lee County, in which Auburn is
located, were home to some of the finest inbred crackers that Jerry
Springer scouts could ever hope to encounter.  Other areas of Alabama
have much higher concentrations of white trash, but it really doesn't
make any difference.  Strategically placed, it would only take about
50 of these guys to make any city, however progressive, take on the
image that just about all cities in Alabama have with the outside
world.  I digress.

Well, in those days I ran around with a crowd that Citizen Ted's fear
and loathing posts always remind me of.  It was an incredibly great
time, but the memories are full of blood.  The nurses in the emergency
room knew half of us by name.  We were some of their best customers.
I don't know what it is about drunk fraternity guys and glass windows
and glass bottles, but the jagged edges flew everywhere around this
crowd.

One summer night, we were drinking on a backyard deck and one of the
guys decided to go in and make another drink of whiskey.  He tried to
accomplish this by walking through the closed sliding glass door.  He
realized his error when he got about halfway through and managed not
to fall.  His blue jeans kept his lower body pretty much unscathed,
but the Tshirt he was wearing did nothing to prevent a really nice
gash about 2 inches long on the outside of one of his arms.  Blood
spurted out about an inch with every heartbeat until we put pressure
on it.  He had scratches all over his face and hands, but he was
unusually calm about the incident.  We started the drill.

We were all WAY too drunk to drive, and the Auburn Police give an
incredibly high number of DUIs.  Fortunately we tended to date girls
that didn't drink much on Tuesday nights.  The girlfriend carpool (2
cars) arrived and we piled in for the trip to the mergency room.  this
was always a community event.

Upon arrival in the waiting room, we began our regular routine.  It
was apparent from early on that we were in for a treat.    Sitting
directly across from me, alone, was a skinny redneck tard with long,
stringy hair emerging from underneath the painter's cap that was the
grit fashion du jour.  Scraggly beard, huge Adam's apple, tank top
shirt with one of those "funny sayins" on it, and cut off jeans.  Not
your ordinary cutoffs, however.  These were cut so short on at least
one leg as to allow one of his testicles to come out for a bit of
fresh air.  We immediately pointed the stray ball out to the nurzing
staff and they got a huge kick out of it.  The testicle barer never
showed the slightest bit of self consciousness about his attire.  One
person  who was there swears that our man had occasion to reach down
and scratch it a time or two.  

The guy sitting next to my sliced-up friend looked a little tense.  He
had the Richard Ramirez, night stalker look going.  He was sweating
and wringing his hands when a nurse approached him to ask a question.
It was at this point that the guy climbed on top of the back of his
chair and kind of perched like a bird for a second before launching
himself towards the nurse.  She was quick enough to move out of the
way of the flying stressed man.   The guy was a complete maniac when
he managed to get up to his knees after a pretty hard landing.  He
held his arms straight out to his sides , tilted his head back and
began screaming some shit about rodents in as loud as I have ever
heard an unamplified voice.  It didn't take but about 20 seconds to
get the guy into restraints.  As they wheeled him past us, he put some
kind of curse on us.  I think to this day that the curse may have been
the cause of the terrible flatulence I have since suffered.

Soon afterward the nurzes came and got my friend to sew him up.  They
let us go back to watch the stitch job and we were more than happy to
critique the resident doing the sewing.  He told us that the screaming
guy had been dropped off at the door before the fit and that he had
gone into some serious convulsions when they got him out back.  He had
apparently been going for a Crystal Meth marathon record.  The
testicle guy was waiting for his son, who had been hit over the head
with a *pop-up-pinball* toy by a sibling.  The family might not have
been much to look a, but it had a theme, by God.

ObT:  What started the Mergency room conversation this weekend.
Drunk, I walked out into the front yard and talked to at least one
neighbor before realizing that not only my fly was completely
unzipped, but that the tip of my crank was hanging out underneath the
bottom of my tshirt.  Hidey Ho!

Fatty

He who farts between the rows.