So I'm working in my office and suddenly there's a huge crash. This morning my rack full of shoes collapsed and that was a crash too, but this turned out to be a white BMW that had driven into our neighbor's yard and hit a tree!
After I double checked that my shoe rack was ok, I headed over. There were a few folks milling about, already talking to 911. Someone had already opened the driver's side door, and there, slumped sideways in his seat, pushed back by the airbag, was a guy I estimated to be in his mid-50's who was unconscious. Which wasn't suprising. What was suprising, however, was that he was naked from the waist down!
I went over to the other side of the car where there was better access, and was able to get to his wrist where I felt that his pulse was fine, and as I got there he started making a snoring sound. I saw a little blood coming off his face and figured he had some blood in his sinuses, but based on my own recollection of first aid, the speaker-phoned 911 dispatcher's admonitions to not try to move him/his head, and the fact that the sirens were already wailing in the distance I left him be, figuring he was alive and there was nothing I was going to do in the next 1 minute til the paramedics arrived.
It was about this time that one of the folks living next door said "I think he had a seizure!" Now I'm no physician nor psychiatrist nor neurologist, but something tells me that the odds of simultaneously having a seizure whilst driving around naked are fairly low! Either that or his seizure was so violent that he yanked his pants and undies off just before he drove into the tree!
When the paramedics showed they were, as always, all business, and when they saw that he was naked one of them asked me "is this how he showed up?" I was tempted to say "No sir, he was fully-clothed, but we tthought we'd take the opportunity of his subconsciousness, if you know what I mean!" with a wink and a nudge. But I didn't.
They then put a C-collar on him, yanked him out of the car, and whisked him away. I suppose I'll never know the story.
But as I watched the proceedings alongside Linda, the matriarch of the phalanx of degenerates that make up our neighbors, I was tempted to say "well, at least this time the ambulances didn't show up for one of your overdosing kids!" But I didn't. And I was tempted to say "are your yappy, awful little dogs pinned between the grill and the tree?" But I didn't. Much self control exercised this exciting afternoon in Sugarhood.