And you thought the saga begun by the truck was over.
At any rate, so did I. Safely in Phoenix away from the evil influence of the truck, I decided to take my math homework to Studio 207 on Monday night (goth night) to soak up some of the goth culture, dancing, and music. Homework, dancing, and socializing being safely and sanely accomplished *without* consuming large amounts of or in fact any alcohol, I decided I would leave early (11:30) in order to get up at unearthly hours the next morning to go to school and socialize with friends before the math test and attendant joys.
Most of my roommates had come with me. BD had already bailed out; Toby and Fossil were still going strong. "Hey guys, I'm leaving," I told them, and set out cross-country (okay, cross-parking lot) and headed for home.
Studio 207 is in a winding strip mall adjacent to the Metrocenter, perhaps administratively a part of it. The shortest route between there and home is to cut across the parking lot instead of keeping to the safe sidewalks, meander along the end of the straight bit, dodge the departing patrons of Chuy's Southwest dining-place, dodge their cars, then hit the sidewalk.
Most of the businesses along the front strip of the mall (from the air, I suspect it looks like a slightly bent lower-case N) have planted flowers or put decorative rocks in the little dirt-filled rectangles that are four to five centimeters lower than the rest of the sidewalk. Chuy's hasn't. Oblivious and thinking only of a hot shower and my nice cozy bed, I strode confidently across the sidewalk ---
---and sprawled with my legs in the dirt pit, most of my middle on the sidewalk on the other side, and my torso and face in the parking lot. I howled with overwhelming pain.
The guy cleaning up the resturant and a random security guard in a red jacket rushed to my aid. "Are you okay?" they asked.
"##### ***** @@@@@ %%%%% &&&&&& ****!!!***!!! NO," I answered. "It's my *****######!! ankle." They hauled me inside Chuy's and the security guard went off to summon my roommates.
Toby had been dancing without his glasses on. When the security guard summoned him, he rushed to find me. He looked inside and didn't see me. He ran back to Studio 207 to find Fossil.
Fossil and Toby returned in force, maybe twenty minutes after I'd twisted my ankle. Fossil called a cab while Toby sat there and held my hand. "Hey, where are we going?" Fossil wanted to know.
"A hospital," Toby told him.
"Which one?"
"I don't care. The nearest one. The cheapest one. One with a working X-ray machine."
"Right. Oh, and has she been drinking? The taxi company wants to know."
"*****!!!" I said.
"No," Toby translated.
"No," Fossil said into the phone. "Okay, guys," he said, "they said they've got a taxi on the way and it's just going to be maybe fifteen, twenty minutes."
The guy who was cleaning up walked over. "Hey, guys, I hate to disturb you and stuff, but I'm closing up here in a few minutes."
"Yeah," Toby said, "OK. He just called a taxi." He and Fossil got me to my feet and they hopped me out the door and sat me down on the sidewalk.
"Oh," said Fossil as a low grey car pulled into the parking lot, "I bet that's the taxi right now."
"I don't see a light on top," I said.
"It's probably burned out or something," Toby said. "See, it's creeping along the mall like it's looking for someone."
"It looks like a drug dealer," I said.
"It's got to be the taxi, Azz," Toby said.
"There it goes around the far corner of the mall," Fossil said. "Until this weirdo decides to pick us up, I'm gonna try some tricks on my skateboard. We're going to the hospital already, so if I break anything I'll already be going to the right place."
"The right place for you is that place with the men in white suits," I said sourly.
"There goes that car again," Toby said ten minutes later. "It's creeping around the Toys R Us store now. I told the guy the place was right by Toys R Us."
"I don't think that's a taxi," I said.
"I'll go and call the cab company again," Fossil said, but first he walked over and waved his arms at the car creeping around Toys R Us. "Hey, if you're our cab, we're over here!" he yelled.
The grey car sped up and zoomed off into the night.
"I guess that wasn't the taxi," he said, and trotted off to the bar to call upon the taxi gods.
Toby sat there with me. I looked pained. Toby looked glum. I looked glum. Toby looked pained.
"I bet that's the taxi!" he said suddenly as a car with a yellow light on top floated down Dunlap.
"Maybe," I said.
We waited. The taxi passed the turnoff to the little strip mall. "Or maybe not," I said.
"Hey, there it is!" Toby said as a black car went past on the road.
"Nope," I said, "no light on top."
"Damn," he said.
We waited for ten more minutes.
"Where the hell is Fossil?" I groused.
"There's the taxi," Toby said.
"Riiiiight," I said.
"No, actually, there it is," he said, and pointed out the slightly battered yellow cab driving towards us.
"Wow," I said.
"Told you," he said. "C'mon, get up."
"Ow," I said as I tried to put a little weight on my foot.
"Oh, sorry," he said, and tried to get me to my feet. "...No, I guess we're waiting for Fossil."
He walked away from me and talked to the taxi driver. "Yeah, that's me. Right now we're waiting for another guy. Azz here needs a ride."
"So she's drunk?" the taxi driver asked.
"Grrrr," I said softly to myself.
"No," Toby said, "she fell and busted her ankle up. I need to get her to a hospital."
"So it's just her going to the hospital?" the cabbie asked.
"No," Toby said. "We're all going. We're still waiting on Fossil, who should be here any minute now. HEY, FOSSIL!" he suddenly bellowed across the parking lot, "GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE RIGHT NOW!"
Fossil strolled up in due time.
"C'mon, help me get Azz into the car," Toby ordered, and he and Fossil lifted me and hopped/carried me to the taxi. As they negotiated the door, a low-slung car with extremely tinted windows and a payload of g-stylin' teenage guys pulled up alongside the taxi in a flashy screech of brakes and wide chromed tires.
"Hey, everything OK?" they asked.
"Yeah," Toby said, and jarred my ankle. I made an unhappy face of agony.
"So everything's really OK?" they asked.
"Yes!" Toby said.
"You're sure everything's all right?" they persisted.
"Yes!" I said sharply, and half-fell into the taxi. "Yeeeow bleep $$$! **** of a ####!"
"You okay, ma'am?" the taxi driver asked.
"Yes," I said through gritted teeth. "Everybody in?"
"I'm in," said Toby, and sat on my hand.
"I'm in," said Fossil, and closed the door.
"Hey!" said Toby. "Fossil, don't put your skateboard on my lap."
"Sorry," Fossil said, "but there's nowhere else to put it."
"Hey Toby," I said, "could you get your lap off my hand?"
"Sorry," Toby said, and scooched a little until I could retrieve my extremity.
"Everybody set?" I asked again.
"Okay, let's go!" I directed the driver. He started up, and lumped over the speed bump. "Yeeow!" I hissed.
"Sorry," he said, "I'm driving as smooth as I can."
