Bus

Code 3 for someone who fell out of his wheelchair. At Walgreens. And, of course, at 3am.

The guy’s sitting on the ground next to his wheelchair.

“What’s your name?”

“Spider.”

“Spider?”

“Spider.”

“Alright, what happened, Spider?”

“I want go to get down to First St. When’s the bus coming?”

“I don’t think the bus is running. It’s the middle of the night.”

“Well, how am I going to get there?”

“You can wheel yourself there. It’s only 10 blocks down. You didn’t fall out of your wheelchair, did you?”

He gets up on his own and gets into his wheelchair. None of us need to help him up. Thanks, (another) drive-by cell phone warrior. I’m going to have to start crushing cell phones on sight. Fucking people call 911 more than they call their mothers.

“Can you guys drive me down there?”

“No, we’re not the bus.”

“Why not?”

I turn his wheelchair in the right direction and point him down the street.

“It’s that way.”

He wheels himself off without much apparent difficulty.

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