The People Behind My Eyes

Wanted to Kick Ass and Take a Name - Sunday, July 30, 2006-12:49:49 noon/PM

Still on the “I haven’t thrown a punch” thing..

I guess I have thrown a punch but as far as I know it’s only been one time that I needed to do it. I was almost pushed to it back in 2004 when I got hit by my own Ford Bronco. Yeah, only Austin would get hit by her own truck! Okay, I should have just taken the truck down the street to the Jiffy Lube but no, I had to save money and change the oil myself. I guess I didn’t get it in gear very well before I started the whole thing. So, it started rolling forward. I tried to run around the side and jump in to stop the car but my short self didn’t quite make it inside. The truck whipped me around, dragged me about 10 to 15 feet then pinned me underneath it. I learned that when a car or truck drags you it tears off your clothing so there I was with only a shirt on pinned under the truck. See, when stuff happens to me it has to go from bad to humiliating within seconds. My fat ass is laying naked and trapped under the friggin truck! I tried to scream but I found out quickly that all my energy was dragged out of me and lay on East Street somewhere near my pants. I decided that there was no telling when someone was going to come along and see me so I’d just leave. I dissociated and I either passed out or fell asleep like I was planning to do..thus I left. I really don’t know if I passed out or went to sleep but the plan was to force dissociation and then fall asleep. When I woke up some guy was standing in front of me asking me if I was okay. No, I didn’t say, “Here’s your sign.” I asked him to drive the truck off of me. He said, I really don’t want to drive your car. I said, just drive it off of me. He never said why. Had he said, well, let me call the police and they’ll get you out. I don’t want to hurt you. He just said, No I really don’t want to drive your car. He never offered to call the police so I told him to do it. But it just angered me that he was arguing with me and looking at me. I couldn’t believe that he argued with a trapped woman. Finally I did enough cursing to get him to get in the truck and back it off of me. When I stood up and walked to get my pants he had the nerve to say, “You’re going to hell. You know that?” he said it because of all the cursing I was doing even after he drove the car off of me. See, in my life things go from bad to worse to humiliating to down right unbelievable within a very short period of time.

Somehow I managed to not break a darn thing. The truck rested on my leg for I don’t know how long but somehow I didn’t break one bone. I do have what I call East Street burn on my legs though. Darn drag marks! That day, had I found my strength next to my pants I may have taken to violence. But as it was, I didn’t find it. No swings on that day but plenty of bumps and bruises. I should have just gone to Jiffy Lube.

Joan of Arc