Just when I thought I’d seen it all.
The other night I went to a crash involving a pedestrian and a vehicle, which normally isn’t that big of a deal, except this one had a twist.
When I got to the call, the victim was being put inside the ambulance. I jumped inside and asked, “What happened?”
The man, who was homeless, was about 40 years old. He had an unkempt looking beard and smelled like he hadn’t had a bath in weeks. He also smelled like he’d been drinking beer all day long.
He told me about lying down in the parking lot and putting his head on the curb like it was a concrete pillow.
There was car parked parallel to the curb just south of where he was resting. A guy got into the driver seat and started the engine. At this point, it would’ve been a good idea to move, but he didn’t.
That’s when he said, “He ran me over!”
Now, it’s not every day you hear someone say that, so I tried to keep a straight face as I asked, “Where did the car run you over at?”
“Look at my leg. It doesn’t look like the other one.”
He was wearing pants but one leg was definitely bigger than the other. The victim said, “The guy was drinking.”
“How do you know?”
“We’re street people. We know these things.”
You just can’t make this stuff up.