My husband was driving home today when he passed an accident near the train tracks on 12th Street. He said (on his hands-free!), “Oh, God—motorcycle, looks like bodies, ambulance coming in silent.” And I said, “I hope it’s not anyone we know.”
“I hope it’s not anyone we know.”
What a crappy thought! I’m serious, what is wrong with me? Why would I even think that? What I SHOULD have thought (and said) was, “I hope you’re wrong. I hope no one is dead or badly hurt. I hope the ambulance is coming in silent because no one is injured.”
Please don’t let me become that person. You know, the person who looks out after her own and to hell with the rest? I remember, years back, a teenage girl getting hit by a truck on a Friday night on 12th Street. Tommy, Sean and I were at the drive-through at Burger King, and I saw the girl get nailed. Only two people got out into that road to render aid—me and the driver of the truck. A couple other people stopped once we had her off the asphalt and onto the grass, but, for the most part, everyone drove right by. No one offered to call an ambulance (luckily, Tommy had done so), no seemed to CARE, unless gawking somehow indicates deep concern.
They probably zipped by, saying to themselves, “Gosh, glad that isn’t anyone I know.”
No cute, photo-shoppy picture this time out. Hardly seems appropriate, considering.
“I hope it’s not anyone we know.”
What a crappy thought! I’m serious, what is wrong with me? Why would I even think that? What I SHOULD have thought (and said) was, “I hope you’re wrong. I hope no one is dead or badly hurt. I hope the ambulance is coming in silent because no one is injured.”
Please don’t let me become that person. You know, the person who looks out after her own and to hell with the rest? I remember, years back, a teenage girl getting hit by a truck on a Friday night on 12th Street. Tommy, Sean and I were at the drive-through at Burger King, and I saw the girl get nailed. Only two people got out into that road to render aid—me and the driver of the truck. A couple other people stopped once we had her off the asphalt and onto the grass, but, for the most part, everyone drove right by. No one offered to call an ambulance (luckily, Tommy had done so), no seemed to CARE, unless gawking somehow indicates deep concern.
They probably zipped by, saying to themselves, “Gosh, glad that isn’t anyone I know.”
No cute, photo-shoppy picture this time out. Hardly seems appropriate, considering.
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