A Week In April

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A Week In April, as the title suggests, is about a week in April; to be more precise, it’s about the events that took place on the 14th through the 21st. A lot happened during this week, including the Boston Bombings and Congress’s inability to care what the American people think about gun control. This post is not about those events though; this post about what happened to me during that time period.

Saturday April 13, I went to see the screaming eagle of soul Charles Bradley at the Jefferson Theater in Charlottesville. It was a great show that I carpooled to with my concert-going mate. When we got back to their place in Staunton I stayed a while, shooting the shit and acting a fool.  I left around 12:50 am and got on Interstate 81 going north, heading home. Just six miles up the road I witnessed a wreck. A car about 50-60 yards in front of me in the right lane lost control and swerved into the left lane, hit a guard rail, and spun around, headlights facing oncoming traffic. Cars began to slow down with several pulling over and putting on their hazard lights. I pulled over as well a few yards up the road from the other cars, completely off the road in the grass. We walked across the interstate to check on the driver who had a small cut on his head and was bleeding a little. The man was clearly drunk, an open case of Bud Light in the passenger seat.

I was with three people who will just be named Good Samaritans 1, 2, and 3. Good Samaritan 1 said he believed he had a first aid kit in the back of his car, so the four of us crossed the interstate again and began looking around in his trunk. The cars on the interstate that night continued to drive by, many slowing down to get a look at what was going on. While we were searching for the first aid kit and waiting for the police to show up, the drunk driver was tossing all the beer out of his car. A little after 1 am, a FedEx tractor trailer came flying through and swerved out of the right hand lane, apparently trying to avoid cars that were nowhere close to being on the road, and slammed into the drunk driver’s car.

At that moment, time came to a stop. Just two lanes across from us we watched the truck slam into the little car, throwing it back several feet. You would expect glass to explode like in the movies, but it just simply crumbled into a million little pieces. We watched the tractor trailer carrying two trailers lose control and the back trailer swing around the right side going up the interstate. The back trailer hit my car and flipped on impact. The truck then slammed into a hill and the hood flew off into the road, which was now covered in chunks of metal, glass, and grass. We stood there for what seemed like eternity until I finally spoke:

Me: God damn it…I really hate FedEx.

Good Samaritan 2: Well these fuckers are dead and these drivers are nuts, I’m not moving.

We all looked around and agreed. The next thing we know the drunk driver, who was behind the car when it was hit, pops out of a ditch looking around like Punxsutawney Phil looking for his shadow. He starts running down the center of the road arms waving in the air screaming “NO! NO! NO!”

Good Samaritan 2: Well what do you know, that fucker made it.

Me: So if I go over there and cut my face with some glass and lay down in the field screaming about my neck, will you guys go with it?

Good Samaritan 3: Yeah man, fuck these guys, they totaled your car.

The police and firefighters showed up a few seconds after that and shut down the interstate. The police said the state troopers would be taking our statements. The police walked around asking us if we were ok and why we stopped. I said I was a first responder so I stopped to see if anyone needed any help. The officer asked if I wanted to continue giving care to the drunk driver. Looking around at all the firefighters and EMTs, I declined and went over to the wreckage of memories and despair that was now my car. The days of road trips and cramped sex in the back seat were now over, though the grief of friends and loved ones was spared and the regret of things never said saved for another day. Shortly after that, the drunk driver reappeared with the FedEx truck driver who was wearing a shirt that ironically stated, “God Saves Us All.”

The state troopers showed up an hour later and started talking to everyone:

State Trooper: Okay, I’m going to need identification from everyone.

Me: Alright guys, if anyone has any outstanding warrants it’s time to split.

State Trooper: (stone faced) Okay, I’m going to need your information first.

Me: The price you pay for being a good Samaritan.

The night just kind of continued to go on and on and when we were all cleared to leave, we hung around a little looking over all the wreckage and thinking of what could have been. We also took bets on how the drunk driver would do on his field sobriety test. Another FedEx driver came over to see what was going on since he was stuck in traffic and said he bet the fucker couldn’t even make it a step. I bet $10 he could only make it two steps. He placed one foot in front of the other and quickly fell to the ground. The night ended with not only FedEx taking my car, but also the rest of the money in my wallet.

The next few days were spent trying to get in contact with FedEx’s insurance company and heavy boozing. On the day of the 17th I finally went to where my car had been towed to get my stuff out of it. A supervisor from work took me and was not very pleased over all the work supplies that mysterious wound up in my car.

On the morning of the 18th I woke up with kidney stones and quickly went to the hospital. After a few shots of morphine I was laying in my bed in a hospital gown giggling like a little school girl over my new CNN app that constantly said, “This is CNN,” every time I opened it. When they took me back to get my X-Ray, I had a nice conversation with the nurses:

Nurse 1: Sir is there any metal on the string in your pants?

Me: I don’t know, but you’re more than welcome to check. Oh, I have to warn you all these drugs have given me a massive erection.

Nurse 2: Uhh…

Me: How could a man so drugged up as myself still function, you ask? Well my dear, I like to party. Hey have you guys downloaded the CNN app?

They quickly took my phone and left the room. After a few more shots of morphine, they released me from the hospital. I could barely talk, but I could still yell “7!” whenever they asked what scale the pain was on. The next day, I talked to the claims adjuster for FedEx, making sure he noted I did so under great pain because I refused to give my statement under the influence. He asked where he could reach the drunk driver, and I told him to check the county jail. I ended up missing three days of work because of the stones: two with a doctor’s note and one because they deemed me too high to work. Around 1 am on the 21st, I stepped outside to take a piss, and either passed my stone or discovered I had VD.