OH, OH, hey, something interesting to write about that happen on the way down to Tampa took place at a road rest area stop. Many the stories that could come out of those places could fill a library by themselves. I went into the mensroom sharply dressed in black chucks, green jeans, a pink SAVE ROE shirt, and a black shirt over that. I was standing up doing the pee deed when some old fucker who was one over from me looked over to me in my area not to look while someone is busy and gave me a face. My first thoughts were to myself and they were, ‘Dude, Am I going to get molested by a grandpa at a rest stop?’ Then while I’m still doing my business he spoke, ‘I have to say something to you.’ Thoughts flashed through my mind, ‘Ok, I know, It’s small but it works.’ Don’t ask, even my quick thoughts are self-defecating….wait, is that the right word? My head is still scrambled from what I will talk about next paragraph. Then he continued, ‘What would have happen if you had been aborted son?’ At this moment I remembered that someone once said around the same thing to Wave while she was tabling somewhere and she told me about it and I thought of that as I answered, ‘I wouldn’t be here?’ Then he just stumbled within some words and as he did so I looked down at his feet and had to hold myself back from spinning around to face him and clean off his gnarly toed old fucker sandals because while all of these was still going on, I was still getting rid of a Pepsi that my body had recycled. After staying for two long he left, I finished, and I walked out to meet Wave at the snack machines and I was almost at a lost for words to tell her what happen. She said I should blog about it so blame her if thinking about old men staring at my pissing stance is something I should not have put into your head on this day.
But what happen on the way home is that my left arm and chest started hurting really bad, which they had been doing on and off for a few weeks, and I had Wave take me to the emergency room when we got back in Melbourne. I will write a longer entry about what happen while in the hospital later, which deals with them basically saying they don’t know what was wrong with, them not feeding me, and basically seeing how they treat you second hand when you do not have insurance. Right now I’m back at home resting still feeling like shit. At least to cheer me up a little the lady I love took me to the comic bookshop and picked me up the Doctor Who #4, Secret Invasion #2, and a Cyberman figure.
C.
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