P. B. Walker
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Nov 21, 2001
- Posts
- 25,127
Last night ended up being one of my typical toss and turn all fucking night episodes. I was very relaxed and very comfortable in my double bed. My little kitty cat was curled up against my leg and my breath was very shallow and even. No annoying sounds could be heard anywhere and everything was nice and dark. And yet, my brain started on a little thread of an idea and just went to fucking town on it. It was unbelieveable. I climbed into bed at 1:30AM and by 4AM I was so annoyed at my brain I just threw off my covers and got up to watch TV.
Here's how it began. I was thinking about the new mountain bike I am going to purchase as soon as the MS Bike Tour ride is over. So of course, I begin to imagine riding it along the trail I use the majority of the time. Suddenly, I'm behind a guy and he's going pretty fast and I'm trying to keep up with him. Yeah, yeah, I know... men and their "competitiveness". That aside, I'm cruising along and keeping him in sight, even though it's clear that he's a much stronger rider than I am. I crank it up almost to max and close to within maybe 100 yards of him. Up ahead, I see two women walking along the trail in the right lane of the bike path, chatting as if they don't have a care in the world. Suddenly, I see that there are two little kids directly in front of the two women. Just as the guy in front of me is going into the left lane to pass the two women, the two unruly kids walk right out in front of the guy leaving him no room to pass or even stop without plowing into either the kids or the two women.
So the guy acts quickly and turns right off the path into the bushes and trees. I slow up and come to a stop to see if the poor guy is alright. Meanwhile the mother of the two kids is screaming her head off at the two kids and the other woman is bitching about there being bicyclists on a multi-use path. I get off my bike and walk over to the guy and blood is just spewing like crazy out of the left side of his neck. He had run right into a broken off branch on one of the small trees and it'd had basically just tore out the side of his neck. I quickly kneel next to him and squeeze the side of his neck as hard as I can to keep the blood from spurting everywhere.
I yell at the two women to shut the fuck up and call 911. One of them pulls out a cell phone and dials it. I tell her to tell the 911 operator to get someone here as quickly as possible or this guy is going to completely die right in front of us. Meanwhile the mother is already making excuses about how it's not her fault or her kids fault and that the guy was going too fast. I tell her to shut her hole and get something to help me stop up the bleeding. I look the guy over and there's a bone sticking out of his lower leg. I almost puke just looking at it. The guy is totally out of it. I check to see if he's breathing. He is, but barely. Pulse is very shallow and weak. By this time the woman is talking to the 911 operator, but she's so frazzled she can't adaquately describe where the fuck we are. I tell her to get them here faster and they finally figure something out.
I can actually feel this guys blood vessel against my hand, it's pulse against my fingers, trying to spew more blood out. The front of my cycling jersey's totally covered it wet blood and it's running down my right arm now. My fingers are getting tired and slippery. The minutes just tick by endlessly. Each one feels like 10. I'm almost resigned to the fact that this guy is a goner when I hear the first siren. We're all looking around to find the source and within 30 seconds the ambulence comes plowing down the fucking bike path. It's so fucking wide that it's hitting the trees and bushes on each side leaving little skid marks on each side of the ambulence.
They pulled up from the direction I was going and the a guy jumps out of the passenger side and comes tearing up to me, screaming at me to get away from the guy. I try to say something but he cuts me off. I'm not willing to go of this guy because I know as soon as I do, the blood is going to spew every where. Everytime I try to tell him about the huge fucking gash in the guy's neck the prick cuts me off and tries to push me off him. Finally, I get pissed and yell at him, "Listen you fuck stick, he's got a huge fucking gaping hole in the side of his goddamn fucking neck and if I let go all the blood is going to spew all over the fucking place! Now get a fucking clamp or something to stop the blood you retarded fucking moron!"
At which point his eyebrows go up and he says "Oh. Well why didn't you just say so." He scurries off to get some shit out of the ambulance.
Yep, if my eyes were daggers I would have fucking killed him.
When him and the driver get back, they start packing gauze and shit around my hands and they are both talking so fucking fast I can't keep up with what they are saying. At one point I hear them talking about clamping it off but they've got to do it as soon as I move my hands.
Right about now, we all hear another siren approaching. I look back and see another ambulance blowing down the bike path from the other direction, the one we came from. The fucker's really haulling ass and the other driver looks back and quickly holds up his hands to slow the guy down. The guy squeals his brakes and comes to a stop about a foot away from my brand new $6000 custom made titantium mountain bike. I immediately think, "Whoa. Dude! WTF?"
And then, unbelieveable, as we turn back to finally get this clamp put on the guy, we all hear the engine of the second ambulance rev up really high and suddenly the stupid fuck pulls forward about 5 feet, totally running over my bike and stopping within 2 feet of us. I swear my brain just fucking explodes at this point. I can see the mangled pieces of my bike down under the middle of the ambulance, but I can't get up and go into a total fucking rage because I'm holding this guys life in my hands. The two other EMT guys can see this and one of them pulls my hands away while the other jams a clamp thing into his neck. One or two tiny spurts of blood shoot up in the air about a 3 feet and then stop.
I stand up and start walking toward the new ambulance just totall ready to take this stupid fuck apart. I'm screaming by now. Just raging. "What the fuck this, what the fuck that, etc, etc., etc." The kids are screaming, the women are just agape at the vile words streaming out of my mouth. The new driver gets out of the ambulance and stumbles around the door. He's leaning heavily on it and walking like his legs are totally asleep. He practically falls into and that's when the massive reek of alcohol hits me. He's so fucking drunk that the smell practically hits me like a walking wall of alcohol vapor. My eyes actually tear up from the smell.
I practically want to choke this shit heel to death right then and there.
I turn around to the other EMTs who are busy putting shit on the other guy and cutting his clothes off and scream, "This stupid fuck is drunk off his fucking ass!"
And they both just look at each other knowingly. I push the guy down and walk back to them. "How the fuck is that guy even behind the wheel? Someone's going to pay for my goddamn bike and I want your fucking manager or director or whatever the fuck he is down here right fucking now."
They of course ignore me and start to put this guy on a board to transport him into the ambulance. This is when the police show up. Which is lucky because I was about to turn around and just start stomping this other guys guts out.
But of course... it's not so simple. The fat cop comes squeezing his way around the other ambulance and sees me, almost totally covered in blood and immediately pulls his fucking gun. I just look at him like "you've got to be fucking kidding me!!"
I just look at him and say "That's the fuck you need to be arresting. That stupid moronic fuck just drove up in the ambulance and ran over my new $6000 custom made titantium mountain bike and he's so fucking drunk off his ass that he can't even walk."
At which point the cop grabs his little walkie talkie and calls for fucking back up. I'm beside myself now. And of course, this is the point where the mother decides it's best for her to inject herself back into the situation and starts rambling off about her opinion that the cyclists ride too fast on the fucking bike paths and they are putting her unruly childern into danger. The cop tells her to back off and then the other lady jumps in... all while he's got a fucking gun trained on me and is telling me to put my hands up and turn around.
I hear more sirens in the back ground and I'm sure I'm going to end up on an episode of Cops at this point. I just roll my eyes and say "fuck it". I turn around and hold up my hands as the cop keeps yelling at me telling me to do different things that make no sense. He's obviously so frazzled at this point that he doesn't know what the fuck he's saying.
Suddenly, I hear a couple heavy foot steps behind me and I'm fucking gang tackled by these two beefed up, steriod popping, crew cut having cops that practically beat the fuck outta me as they are slapping the cuffs on me so tight I can't feel my fucking fingers anymore. Finally, they feel I've been brutalized enough and roll me over and then pick me up. I stand there reeling, and dizzy. I barely know which way is up anymore, and I'm suddenly not so concerned about my bike or that fact that an ambulance driver is driving around shitfaced.
After about 45 minutes of me sitting over in the weeds like a freakin vietnamese POW with my arms behind my back and my legs all crossed up funny, the cops get it all figured out with the help of the two women and the other two "good" EMTs, who didn't actually stay long because the guy was on his last breath.
About this time the cops finally realize I'm the good guy and uncuff me. They try to play nice but I just ignore them. They cart the shitfaced driver off to jail and the "acting" supervisor of the EMT unit shows up. He's all apologetic and I just tell him I'm going to provide him with the receipts of my bike that I just fucking bought and I better have a fucking check expressed mailed to me in 3 fucking days or he'll be hearing from my lawyer and every newspaper in town will be getting an interview with me about how the county has drunk fucking EMTs driving around "helping" people. The cops are nice enough to give me copies of all the reports so that I can use them in case there is a claim I need to file, plus they take a few polariods for me.
I drag my new bike out from under the ambulance and almost start sobbing. It's totally FUBAR. I can't even roll the fucker home it's so gone. I start to heave it up onto my shoulder and walk the 8 miles home when the first cop tells me he'd give me a ride, but that I'll have to wait about an hour. I tell him that I need to get the bike to the shop before it closes at 8. He looks around and sees another officer doing nothing and ask her to give me a ride. She agrees and I load my busted ass bike into her trunk, climb in the front passenger seat next to her big ass shotgun and we set off.
I give her directions to the bike shop and tell her I just need to drop it off there. She's ok with it. I come walking into the bike shop covered in blood carrying a bike that looks like it's been tossed off a 14 story building and people practically have a heart attack. Luckily I know the manager really well and I tell him the quick and dirty story and ask him if they can just hold my bike and scavenge what they can from it and just put it into a box for me and I'll return the next day. Plus I'd tell them the full story. They all know me really well since I'm in there alot. One of the guys just says "Holy fucking shit! What the fuck happened". And I'm, like, "long story dude, I'll tell ya when I get back in, the cops are giving me a ride home". At the mention of the cops they all raise their eyebrows but don't say anything. Almost all of them are potheads, so they probably want the copes gone as quickly as possible.
So on the way back to my place the female cop and I chat about cycling and she's wonder how into it I am. We talk about some of my cycling goals and shit and what sort of stuff she's into. She's a pretty big sports enthusiast and when I mention triathlons she's all into it since she's done a few herself. When we get to my place I ask her for her card and the name of the cop that arrive first in case I have problems or questions later on. She gives them to me and I say I'll call if I run into any trouble. And she just smiles and says "You don't need to run into any trouble to just call and talk".
I kinda look at her funny and ask "Officer, are you asking me out".
"No, that wouldn't be allowed while I'm on duty, but we could plan a meeting later this week to discuss your case file, if you want to".
I just smile and say "I think I'd like that. How about I call and we can set up the details for the meeting?"
"Sounds good. Take care."
"You too. Be safe."
"Always am."
She watches me walk into my building and I turn around once I'm inside to see if she waited. She did. She waves before pulling away. So I turn and head across the lobby when one of the old fucking bitties from the building just outrigtht stares at me. Of course, I realize I probably don't look that hot at the moment, all covered in blood and grass and dirt and sweat. Helmet still on, cycling jersey all ruffled and blood covered. Cycling tights with dirt stains all down the sides. Legs all bloody and dirty.
And in one of those snippity tones she asks "Excuse me young man but do you live here?"
Of course my first instinct is to just say "Fuck you, you old bag" and then get on the elevator. But instead I say, "Excuse me ma'am, but I'm not in the mood for this. As you can probably tell I've had a very bad evening. I saw a man get his entire neck torn open and had to sit there squeezing his blood vessel so he wouldn't bleed to death while we waited for the ambulance. And then the ambulance showed up and the drunk ambulance driver totally ran over my brand new $6000 custom made titantium mountain bike. When the police showed up they mistakenly thought I was the bad guy and pointed their guns at me and then tackled me and cuffed me. The last thing I need is to be accosted by some old lady who has so much time on her hands that she needs to stick her nose into everybodies business. So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go up to my condo, undress, take a long hot shower and then have a good stiff drink. To answer you question, yes I live here. I have lived her for over 10 years. And yes, I fucking own!"
At which point I let go of the elevator door and watched her huff and puff as the elevator door slammed shut in her face. And of course.. being the nosy fuck that she is, she conviened the fucking condo board together and they all voted to make a new rule about appropriate dress code for when walking thru the fucking lobby. There are already rules about not going thru the lobby with your dog or you bike or while wearing swimming attire, and now it includes being in presentable attire.
I, of course, have another cow. I sit up all night planning and writing a personalized response to this old fuck and how she needs to mind her own business and let people live in peace. Basically a huge ranting letter. I even think out the details of how I'm going to wear rubber gloves and print out the letter, one copy for each resident, and get envelopes to put them in. Then, making sure no identifying marks are on them or finger prints or what not, I plan on how I'm going to get up at 3Am and go door to door in the building to leave a copy of the letter for each resident at their door. Plus back up plans in case I'm caught, and alibis in case the police question me, because godforbid someone writes a dirty letter to everyone on the building. Someone actually did that one time and they had the police out there questioning people on who did it. And then there was a flyer posted about how that was not appropriate behavior.
It was about this time that I said enough was enough and got up to watch TV. I basically wasted 3 hours of possible sleep time so my brain could go off on this weird ass tangent.
I need an on/off switch for my brain.
Here's how it began. I was thinking about the new mountain bike I am going to purchase as soon as the MS Bike Tour ride is over. So of course, I begin to imagine riding it along the trail I use the majority of the time. Suddenly, I'm behind a guy and he's going pretty fast and I'm trying to keep up with him. Yeah, yeah, I know... men and their "competitiveness". That aside, I'm cruising along and keeping him in sight, even though it's clear that he's a much stronger rider than I am. I crank it up almost to max and close to within maybe 100 yards of him. Up ahead, I see two women walking along the trail in the right lane of the bike path, chatting as if they don't have a care in the world. Suddenly, I see that there are two little kids directly in front of the two women. Just as the guy in front of me is going into the left lane to pass the two women, the two unruly kids walk right out in front of the guy leaving him no room to pass or even stop without plowing into either the kids or the two women.
So the guy acts quickly and turns right off the path into the bushes and trees. I slow up and come to a stop to see if the poor guy is alright. Meanwhile the mother of the two kids is screaming her head off at the two kids and the other woman is bitching about there being bicyclists on a multi-use path. I get off my bike and walk over to the guy and blood is just spewing like crazy out of the left side of his neck. He had run right into a broken off branch on one of the small trees and it'd had basically just tore out the side of his neck. I quickly kneel next to him and squeeze the side of his neck as hard as I can to keep the blood from spurting everywhere.
I yell at the two women to shut the fuck up and call 911. One of them pulls out a cell phone and dials it. I tell her to tell the 911 operator to get someone here as quickly as possible or this guy is going to completely die right in front of us. Meanwhile the mother is already making excuses about how it's not her fault or her kids fault and that the guy was going too fast. I tell her to shut her hole and get something to help me stop up the bleeding. I look the guy over and there's a bone sticking out of his lower leg. I almost puke just looking at it. The guy is totally out of it. I check to see if he's breathing. He is, but barely. Pulse is very shallow and weak. By this time the woman is talking to the 911 operator, but she's so frazzled she can't adaquately describe where the fuck we are. I tell her to get them here faster and they finally figure something out.
I can actually feel this guys blood vessel against my hand, it's pulse against my fingers, trying to spew more blood out. The front of my cycling jersey's totally covered it wet blood and it's running down my right arm now. My fingers are getting tired and slippery. The minutes just tick by endlessly. Each one feels like 10. I'm almost resigned to the fact that this guy is a goner when I hear the first siren. We're all looking around to find the source and within 30 seconds the ambulence comes plowing down the fucking bike path. It's so fucking wide that it's hitting the trees and bushes on each side leaving little skid marks on each side of the ambulence.
They pulled up from the direction I was going and the a guy jumps out of the passenger side and comes tearing up to me, screaming at me to get away from the guy. I try to say something but he cuts me off. I'm not willing to go of this guy because I know as soon as I do, the blood is going to spew every where. Everytime I try to tell him about the huge fucking gash in the guy's neck the prick cuts me off and tries to push me off him. Finally, I get pissed and yell at him, "Listen you fuck stick, he's got a huge fucking gaping hole in the side of his goddamn fucking neck and if I let go all the blood is going to spew all over the fucking place! Now get a fucking clamp or something to stop the blood you retarded fucking moron!"
At which point his eyebrows go up and he says "Oh. Well why didn't you just say so." He scurries off to get some shit out of the ambulance.
Yep, if my eyes were daggers I would have fucking killed him.
When him and the driver get back, they start packing gauze and shit around my hands and they are both talking so fucking fast I can't keep up with what they are saying. At one point I hear them talking about clamping it off but they've got to do it as soon as I move my hands.
Right about now, we all hear another siren approaching. I look back and see another ambulance blowing down the bike path from the other direction, the one we came from. The fucker's really haulling ass and the other driver looks back and quickly holds up his hands to slow the guy down. The guy squeals his brakes and comes to a stop about a foot away from my brand new $6000 custom made titantium mountain bike. I immediately think, "Whoa. Dude! WTF?"
And then, unbelieveable, as we turn back to finally get this clamp put on the guy, we all hear the engine of the second ambulance rev up really high and suddenly the stupid fuck pulls forward about 5 feet, totally running over my bike and stopping within 2 feet of us. I swear my brain just fucking explodes at this point. I can see the mangled pieces of my bike down under the middle of the ambulance, but I can't get up and go into a total fucking rage because I'm holding this guys life in my hands. The two other EMT guys can see this and one of them pulls my hands away while the other jams a clamp thing into his neck. One or two tiny spurts of blood shoot up in the air about a 3 feet and then stop.
I stand up and start walking toward the new ambulance just totall ready to take this stupid fuck apart. I'm screaming by now. Just raging. "What the fuck this, what the fuck that, etc, etc., etc." The kids are screaming, the women are just agape at the vile words streaming out of my mouth. The new driver gets out of the ambulance and stumbles around the door. He's leaning heavily on it and walking like his legs are totally asleep. He practically falls into and that's when the massive reek of alcohol hits me. He's so fucking drunk that the smell practically hits me like a walking wall of alcohol vapor. My eyes actually tear up from the smell.
I practically want to choke this shit heel to death right then and there.
I turn around to the other EMTs who are busy putting shit on the other guy and cutting his clothes off and scream, "This stupid fuck is drunk off his fucking ass!"
And they both just look at each other knowingly. I push the guy down and walk back to them. "How the fuck is that guy even behind the wheel? Someone's going to pay for my goddamn bike and I want your fucking manager or director or whatever the fuck he is down here right fucking now."
They of course ignore me and start to put this guy on a board to transport him into the ambulance. This is when the police show up. Which is lucky because I was about to turn around and just start stomping this other guys guts out.
But of course... it's not so simple. The fat cop comes squeezing his way around the other ambulance and sees me, almost totally covered in blood and immediately pulls his fucking gun. I just look at him like "you've got to be fucking kidding me!!"
I just look at him and say "That's the fuck you need to be arresting. That stupid moronic fuck just drove up in the ambulance and ran over my new $6000 custom made titantium mountain bike and he's so fucking drunk off his ass that he can't even walk."
At which point the cop grabs his little walkie talkie and calls for fucking back up. I'm beside myself now. And of course, this is the point where the mother decides it's best for her to inject herself back into the situation and starts rambling off about her opinion that the cyclists ride too fast on the fucking bike paths and they are putting her unruly childern into danger. The cop tells her to back off and then the other lady jumps in... all while he's got a fucking gun trained on me and is telling me to put my hands up and turn around.
I hear more sirens in the back ground and I'm sure I'm going to end up on an episode of Cops at this point. I just roll my eyes and say "fuck it". I turn around and hold up my hands as the cop keeps yelling at me telling me to do different things that make no sense. He's obviously so frazzled at this point that he doesn't know what the fuck he's saying.
Suddenly, I hear a couple heavy foot steps behind me and I'm fucking gang tackled by these two beefed up, steriod popping, crew cut having cops that practically beat the fuck outta me as they are slapping the cuffs on me so tight I can't feel my fucking fingers anymore. Finally, they feel I've been brutalized enough and roll me over and then pick me up. I stand there reeling, and dizzy. I barely know which way is up anymore, and I'm suddenly not so concerned about my bike or that fact that an ambulance driver is driving around shitfaced.
After about 45 minutes of me sitting over in the weeds like a freakin vietnamese POW with my arms behind my back and my legs all crossed up funny, the cops get it all figured out with the help of the two women and the other two "good" EMTs, who didn't actually stay long because the guy was on his last breath.
About this time the cops finally realize I'm the good guy and uncuff me. They try to play nice but I just ignore them. They cart the shitfaced driver off to jail and the "acting" supervisor of the EMT unit shows up. He's all apologetic and I just tell him I'm going to provide him with the receipts of my bike that I just fucking bought and I better have a fucking check expressed mailed to me in 3 fucking days or he'll be hearing from my lawyer and every newspaper in town will be getting an interview with me about how the county has drunk fucking EMTs driving around "helping" people. The cops are nice enough to give me copies of all the reports so that I can use them in case there is a claim I need to file, plus they take a few polariods for me.
I drag my new bike out from under the ambulance and almost start sobbing. It's totally FUBAR. I can't even roll the fucker home it's so gone. I start to heave it up onto my shoulder and walk the 8 miles home when the first cop tells me he'd give me a ride, but that I'll have to wait about an hour. I tell him that I need to get the bike to the shop before it closes at 8. He looks around and sees another officer doing nothing and ask her to give me a ride. She agrees and I load my busted ass bike into her trunk, climb in the front passenger seat next to her big ass shotgun and we set off.
I give her directions to the bike shop and tell her I just need to drop it off there. She's ok with it. I come walking into the bike shop covered in blood carrying a bike that looks like it's been tossed off a 14 story building and people practically have a heart attack. Luckily I know the manager really well and I tell him the quick and dirty story and ask him if they can just hold my bike and scavenge what they can from it and just put it into a box for me and I'll return the next day. Plus I'd tell them the full story. They all know me really well since I'm in there alot. One of the guys just says "Holy fucking shit! What the fuck happened". And I'm, like, "long story dude, I'll tell ya when I get back in, the cops are giving me a ride home". At the mention of the cops they all raise their eyebrows but don't say anything. Almost all of them are potheads, so they probably want the copes gone as quickly as possible.
So on the way back to my place the female cop and I chat about cycling and she's wonder how into it I am. We talk about some of my cycling goals and shit and what sort of stuff she's into. She's a pretty big sports enthusiast and when I mention triathlons she's all into it since she's done a few herself. When we get to my place I ask her for her card and the name of the cop that arrive first in case I have problems or questions later on. She gives them to me and I say I'll call if I run into any trouble. And she just smiles and says "You don't need to run into any trouble to just call and talk".
I kinda look at her funny and ask "Officer, are you asking me out".
"No, that wouldn't be allowed while I'm on duty, but we could plan a meeting later this week to discuss your case file, if you want to".
I just smile and say "I think I'd like that. How about I call and we can set up the details for the meeting?"
"Sounds good. Take care."
"You too. Be safe."
"Always am."
She watches me walk into my building and I turn around once I'm inside to see if she waited. She did. She waves before pulling away. So I turn and head across the lobby when one of the old fucking bitties from the building just outrigtht stares at me. Of course, I realize I probably don't look that hot at the moment, all covered in blood and grass and dirt and sweat. Helmet still on, cycling jersey all ruffled and blood covered. Cycling tights with dirt stains all down the sides. Legs all bloody and dirty.
And in one of those snippity tones she asks "Excuse me young man but do you live here?"
Of course my first instinct is to just say "Fuck you, you old bag" and then get on the elevator. But instead I say, "Excuse me ma'am, but I'm not in the mood for this. As you can probably tell I've had a very bad evening. I saw a man get his entire neck torn open and had to sit there squeezing his blood vessel so he wouldn't bleed to death while we waited for the ambulance. And then the ambulance showed up and the drunk ambulance driver totally ran over my brand new $6000 custom made titantium mountain bike. When the police showed up they mistakenly thought I was the bad guy and pointed their guns at me and then tackled me and cuffed me. The last thing I need is to be accosted by some old lady who has so much time on her hands that she needs to stick her nose into everybodies business. So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go up to my condo, undress, take a long hot shower and then have a good stiff drink. To answer you question, yes I live here. I have lived her for over 10 years. And yes, I fucking own!"
At which point I let go of the elevator door and watched her huff and puff as the elevator door slammed shut in her face. And of course.. being the nosy fuck that she is, she conviened the fucking condo board together and they all voted to make a new rule about appropriate dress code for when walking thru the fucking lobby. There are already rules about not going thru the lobby with your dog or you bike or while wearing swimming attire, and now it includes being in presentable attire.
I, of course, have another cow. I sit up all night planning and writing a personalized response to this old fuck and how she needs to mind her own business and let people live in peace. Basically a huge ranting letter. I even think out the details of how I'm going to wear rubber gloves and print out the letter, one copy for each resident, and get envelopes to put them in. Then, making sure no identifying marks are on them or finger prints or what not, I plan on how I'm going to get up at 3Am and go door to door in the building to leave a copy of the letter for each resident at their door. Plus back up plans in case I'm caught, and alibis in case the police question me, because godforbid someone writes a dirty letter to everyone on the building. Someone actually did that one time and they had the police out there questioning people on who did it. And then there was a flyer posted about how that was not appropriate behavior.
It was about this time that I said enough was enough and got up to watch TV. I basically wasted 3 hours of possible sleep time so my brain could go off on this weird ass tangent.
I need an on/off switch for my brain.
