Page 336 - NIXBOOK

Me, roadside, surrounded by police cars and fire trucks, talking to a 7 year old boy who had been riding in his father’s pickup
truck just a few minutes earlier. Dad had tragically fallen asleep, drifted off the road into the woods at 50 mph, and hit a downed
and horizontal tree which had peeled off the roof of the truck cab. Along with a large portion of dad’s head. Dad was dead in
the truck. The EMT’s and Paramedics put a blanket over the cab so nobody else would see the bloody mess. The boy was
uninjured; he was too short for the tree to get him. What do you say to a kid in a situation like that? And just to make it really
mind-numbing, he was the same age as my own son.

Suicidal 19 year old kid poured gasoline on himself out in the driveway. Horrified mother called 911 as he tried flicking his
cigarette lighter, but it was apparently too wet to make a spark. I arrived on the scene and cautiously walked up to him, realizing
too late that I really should have brought a fire extinguisher along with me. I successfully talked him out of the lighter and he
went to the hospital for a mental evaluation. Yeah, that whole scene could have turned out sooooooo much worse.

You know you’re shitty drunk when you wake up the next morning in a parking lot – not in a car, but just laying down on the
pavement – and a cop is asking you what your story is. You’re so drunk you can’t even hardly move, so an ambulance is called.
The nice officer suggests you put your socks on before walking to the ambulance. So you do. But one of them turns out to be a
glove. But you don’t notice. Cause you’re still really, really drunk. When that happens, your foot will look like this: