She's back in black

Thanks to everyone who sent me cards and emails, made comments and brought me food, pigri,dic101and heathrow I am looking gratefully in your direction.
I am in one piece albeit a little stiff and not in a good way. Fortunately the vertigo has subsided and I can finally READ (thank you Jebus!) once more. My doc says no worky for ten days so maybe I can think some brilliant thoughts while laying about like a beached sea creature.
In other news, my nephew: leftfieldmatty has advised me that today May 7th is officially "No Pants Day" so I am sure everyone will want to rush to put up thier "No Pants" decorations and throw a log on the "No Pants" fire.

Fear not citizens!

"I had my lunch between my feet and a rootbeer in my hand while the blinker click, click, clicked away the seconds waiting to turn.
I clearly remember him saying, "oh no."
Then my sunglasses flew off in slow motion like the spaceship tumbling in 2001"

So I sat there for a second trying to determine exactly where I was and why I was sitting there.
I heard a woman in a grocery store one time tell her kid she was going to "knock the sense out of him" and I wondered if perhaps that was what had just happened to me.
My co-worker suddenly let out a low groan and I realized he was hurt.
Suddenly I turned into my alter-ego "Crisis Girl" and leapt from the car.
Two men each holding a cell phone but not talking to anyone were staring dumbly at the front end of their crumpled truck. I asked if either of them were hurt and they both just blinked at me.
I pointed to the passenger "YOU There! Call 911, tell them to send an ambulance the driver is injured!" and then I addressed the driver whose Gomer Pyle demeanor would have been amusing in other circumstances "YOU! turn off the truck's engine. I don't want a fire!"
They both just stared at me, "Do it NOW Damnit!"
Apparently "Damnit" was the operative word and one started dialing and the other got back into his truck to turn the ignition off. After that the driver locked his door and wouldn't get out of the truck.
Without warning I felt like someone had decided to brand me right around the base of my neck and the accompanying headache was remarkable. Brilliant flashes of black and blue were popping in and out of my vision and I decided perhaps it was in my best interest to sit the hell back down.
Crisis Girl was wounded.
While sitting as still as possible I wondered if there was some kind of gentle mob I could hire later to kick Gomer Pyle repeatedly in the shins if it turned out I was too injured to do it myself. Then I noticed the small black truck way ahead of us. The back end was completely smashed in.
A short man mid-forties maybe, gets out of the driver's side and starts marching purposely towards us. He is saying something but it wasn't until he got about ten feet away could I understand him. He is yelling in a thick shrill Cuban accent, "Youfuckingfuckpricks! youdonjuststopinthemiddleoftheroadyoufuckingwhore, whatthefuckingfuckdoyouthinkyouarefuckingdoing!"
He was wearing a shirt that was a bit too small so every time he raised his arms to exclaim "Fuckingfuck" a little bit of his pale hairy belly would peek out almost in a rhythm. It was similar one of those creepy clowns that jump up when you crank the handle on the side of the metal box, you know it is coming but it makes you jump just the same. I was hearing it my head while he screamed at us, do dodo dododo dodo, dodo dodo dododooooo POP goes the weasel!
I was sort of fascinated until he took one step too close and Crisis Girl rose from my wimpy ashes once more..."Excuse me, EXCUSE ME SIR?"
The man stopped and said, "What?"
I stood up then and as merciful fate would have it - I was taller than he was.
"You need to please shut up because we are both hurt!"
"youfuckingthinkYOUarehurt, Iamtheonewhoisfuckingfuckhurtfuckingdamnit!"
Once again the Crisis Girl angry index finger made its appearance. "If you are hurt sir, then YOU need to go sit your ass back in that truck right now and DON'T MOVE until the ambulance arrives" I pointed with brow furrowed for emphasis.
He turned around without another word and sat back down in his truck.
I silently wished for Crisis Girl to show up more often, maybe at the office or perhaps the next time my mother starts complaining about my weight.
I definitely need a better costume.

Then the ambulance elves came.