The Girl Who Cried...

A series of rather unfortunate things have happened to me lately. Rather than depress you with all of them, I will pick out just one situation and describe it's horror for you.

On Thursday night, I was almost home from work when I saw a red work van pulled over to the side of the road in a weird way. It caught my eye so I kept watching as I passed (yes, I realize I should have been looking forward rather than rubber-necking). The hazard lights were on and the driver's side door was open. I could see a pair of legs hanging out and another man bent over the legs. What!? I slowed down and kept looking. The legs looked weird, like they were hanging a little grotesquely, knees facing up, like the person was lying down, half on the seat, half on the floor. All the cars around me were rubber-necking. I thought about pulling over, but I was in the other lane and past the car already. I was 30 seconds from home too.

Now, let me pause my story for a bit of background on me. Recently, I have seen a lot of things that warrant a police call. There are always drunk drivers in our neighborhood and people yelling and probably beating on each other. After the fact, I always mentally abuse myself about how I should have called the police and that someone is probably dead because I didn't. I have made a vow that the next time I see something, no more waiting, just call.

Back to the story...
In light of recent personal proclamations, I decided to call the police for the man in the red van. I didn't have the local police number so I had no choice but to call 9-1-1. This is terrifying for me, I feel like it should only be called if someone is chasing me in the house with a knife. I started the call out with, "This might be nothing, but it seems like there is a van pulled over on the side of the road that looks like he might have a medical problem." I tried to describe the area but got all turned around and panicked because I was talking to 9-1-1. I kept trying to say I might be wrong, but he might be unconscious and the other guy seems like he's trying to help him. I suggested they send a police car to check it out, in case it was something.

Then, I hung up the phone and went in the house and told Mark what I just did. He looked at me in a weird way. I went to our back door, where the road is visible. I couldn't see the van from there. I told Mark where it was and we both went outside to look. Then I realized the van was gone. It was only 2 minutes later and the van was gone! Maybe not such a medical emergency after all. Mark then suggested that I might be an alarmist. I started to panic again. Should I call 9-1-1 back and let them know they are gone? While I was mulling over this thought, I hear sirens in the distance. Oh no! Don't come over here... Instead of one police car, a processional that could have escorted a president came by. One police car, two ambulances, and one full-size fire truck all came by and slowed down at the spot I poorly indicated to the dispatcher. Very soon after, the line of costly emergency vehicles drove back the other way, no lights on this time, heading home, cursing the girl who cried emergency.

So, I was wrong. Maybe their air conditioning went out and they were leaning in trying to see the spark plugs. Maybe they were looking for a contact. Maybe there was an emergency and man number two was able to drag man number one back in the van and drive him to the hospital (maybe not).

I have to reprise my vow to call the police. They probably will put my name on the list if I call again. Dang.