Ask a T-Rex

Really though. What the hell can you do.

I asked my friend Rex this question.

His answer now and always is: “Kill and eat it.”

While effective as a comprehensive life approach back in prehistoric times,

this was not the suggestion I needed which would help me now in these modern times. Also, I’m pretty sure I’m not a killer but it’s probably because I didn’t draw the predator card.

The reason I’m talking to my imaginary yet real friend Rex is because my other half (“David”) and I are back from vacation and I’m back on my fake-it-until-it’s-real schedule which means it’s Monday and I’m cleaning, doing the laundry and not leaving the house because our neighborhood is bat shit.

Now What Happened

On the first day of Not-Vacation, David left for work and then returned and scared the shit out of me because I didn’t hear him as he walked into our kitchen which is where I was standing.

I looked at him quizzically but he was on his phone. At the same time, despite being on the phone, he could still turn and tell me that there was a woman who looked dead outside because he was on hold with 9-1-1.

In Milwaukee, you tend to wait for emergency services if you call them.

If you even get through:

This means that, if there is an emergency, you have to act because maybe no one else is coming to help.

So I jumped into motion and filled a giant plastic sports glass with water and grabbed a couple towels and ran outside to find the dead woman.

It was about 7:45AM at this time and our neighborhood looked quiet as it always does until it doesn’t and it’s instead spontaneously filled with screaming people and gunshots and sex workers.

I stood in the street and looked around and wondered if someone had grabbed her body and was already selling it for parts but then I spotted someone laying on the ground about a half-block away so I started to run-walk down the sidewalk toward her.

Along the way, I came across a large purse which looked as if it had exploded all over the sidewalk, with a trail of its contents – including a couple mobile phones – serving as a trail to the woman who was now sort of stirring.

“Oh. She’s not dead then,” I noted.

As I approached, I took note of her body to see if there were any signs of physical trauma but all I could see was how her skin was quite dirty and also how she was very super crazy high.

But… her being super crazy high didn’t mean she hadn’t experienced some kind of violence or trauma, given that the shit on the sidewalk just behind us looked like it had been dropped from a plane and then tossed into some kind of shredding machine.

I knelt down and set the water on the ground between us and told her that emergency services had been called

(then means little because it’s Milwaukee… so I was assessing whether or not I’d have to transport her to a hospital myself)

and I also had water for her which she should try.

I nudged the giant plastic sports cup closer to her.

Her eyes were closed and she was kind of swaying and I didn’t have the patience because she looked way more calm and content than I felt and so, after a minute or so, I picked up the cup and put it in her hands.

Her fingers closed around the cup which I was happy to see.

And she then opened her eyes and saw me and the water for the first time.

“Hi.”

At about this moment, my husband walked up and a fire truck pulled up with a bunch of EMT-looking/fire-fighters-in-casual-mode inside of it.

“Everything okay?”

They didn’t even get out of the truck. One of them just rolled down his window all the way.

“I don’t know…?”

“Do you know her?”

“No…”

I reflected on my own appearance at that point. I hadn’t brushed my hair and probably looked pretty much like I belonged on the sidewalk too. However, David was all neatly pressed and looked clean as he had been on his way to work so I stood to be closer to him.

The emergency workers turned their direction to the woman on the ground: “Ma-am, are you okay?”

“Mergha… mmm… kabla”

Quickly realizing the emergency help was annoyed at being called to this scene, I retorted, “But what about all that stuff on the ground back there?” And, as soon as the words left my mouth, I realized how silly I was being. So what if something “terrible” happened… there was nothing fire fighters/EMTs could do.

Is there a fire? No.

Is someone on the edge of death? Apparently not.

Yet, they kindly picked up my line of questioning and redirected it: “Ma’am, is that purse yours?” The one who asked the question then stepped down out of the truck, which I appreciated.

I mean, they were already here.

And the woman started to “sort of” speak in order to respond to the question: “Mmm it’s not mine it’s my friend’s he threw it at the car kabla doo ma”… replied the woman who was still sitting on the ground.

But shortly after she spoke she apparently PROCESSED that a gigantic red fire truck was pulled over inches from where she was sitting and now one of the people was getting out of it and

she suddenly came alive.

And then she was suddenly on her feet and speed-walking away from all of us,

and she was still clutching my gigantic Badger Football cup of water.

“Keep the cup!” I yelled after her.

The emergency workers shook their head and then said to us, “Our second (overdose) this morning. Must be a bad batch.”

However, the woman heard that and was suddenly shouting over her shoulder but she never stopped walking.

My husband feels he then got lectured by the emergency workers but I didn’t really hear any of that because it was already clear they felt they were wasting their time and, as an epileptic, I place EMTs and their kind on a higher level than regular humans so I’d probably have taken their side if I had been paying attention.

But, at the same time, I’m so proud of my husband for calling 9-1-1 when he saw what he felt to be a dead woman on the side of road with her head literally hanging off the curb.

That just feels like it was the right decision.

I’m sure many people would think “Meh” at seeing a woman and her head hanging off a curb and would just continue on their way but I’m proud of my other half for doing the right thing.

I also understand that it feels a tad apocalyptic in Milwaukee lately so if someone isn’t bleeding from their eyes or lying TRULY dead in the street, don’t waste the emergency workers time as someone is certainly bleeding from their eyes or truly lying dead in the street somewhere and thus need them more.

At the same time, it’s very clear David and I are no longer on vacation.

I didn’t feel vacation was living up to its hype but then we returned home to Milwaukee and…

well, it’s left me talking to Rex.