Have some backstory.

I work at Checkers (woo, fast food -_-)from a random time (4-8pm) until 12am, having stupidly signed up to be a closer. I didn't care at the time, the pay was better, and I don't have anything during the day that would prevent me from working until 12am (1am on Fridays and Saturdays), so I figured, why not? Last night, I think I found a pretty good indication of why I should probably stick to day jobs after I move back to Clearwater.


It was a normal night in Orlando, hanging out on the notorious South Orange Blossom Trail (US 441), serving people food they didn't need and taking money that they thought they didn't need. By 12am, I'm ahead of schedule. I got the fry machine wiped down early, I've finished breaking down and washing out the shake mixer, and I'm done with the dishes. Clock out, buy another pack of 305 menthols, and by 12:07am I'm on the way home. I take a moment to stop in McDonalds and bull**** with my friend Chris about this and that, and I decide to return at 4am with $40 for a perscription refill.

Fast forward, it's now 12:30am. I'm doing nothing, riding my bicycle down the 'Trail' and listening to the Bloodhound Gang on my mp3 player. A left turn into my residential neighborhood, and I'm down a 1-way street that leads to my place. All's going well, time to play Legacy of Kain: Soul Reaver until 4am and then buy my way to a nice impaired existence, at least temporarily. I hear nothing except music. I see nothing but quiet streets.

I hear engine noise behind me. A white SUV approaches. Odd, I didn't see headlights. I switch to the left lane to allow them to pa- oh wait, they're already in that lane. Course correction, I'm back on the right side of the street, and they swerce in front of me. But wait, now they've stopped at the corner. What is this? I hesitate to pedal, then a black feeling sets in. I stand up and put some muscle into my legs ans juke around the driver's side of the vehicle. Did he open his driver's side door? Don't care, going home, got things to do.

POP POP.

My left thigh goes numb. I pedal harder, hoping I'm wrong about what just happened. I reach down and touch the back of my left thigh. Wet. Oh christ, please be joking. This is not what I need. Well, it's numb for now so I might as well hurry home. Pass under a streetlight and look at my hand. Red. And wet. Damnit, no. Please tell me it grazed me, and that it's numb from the force of the blow.

I get ot the house. My roommates are asleep, as they are expected to be, but I'm not worried about being quiet. I hurry to the bathroom, and drop the trousers. My stomach flips down at the sight of the blood. Not much, mind you, but I was right from the start, something I hate. My roomates stir.

"Is everything okay?" asks Nic, from the bedroom.
"I don't mean to alarm anybody," I respond, "but I think I just got shot."

Fast forward. I'm in the living room in only boxer shorts, a towel wrapped around my thigh, left hand now covered in drying blood. 911 has been called and the police arrive on scene. I give them a statement and describe the vehicle, a newer-model white or silver SUV, similar to an Expedition or an Explorer. The sherrif remarks that this two similar events from earlier that day, one occuring at 8pm in my neighborhood in which two .22 rounds were fired into the air after a dispute of sorts, the other event being at a CVS Pharmacy shortly after the aforementioned 8pm disturbance. Both cases, same vehicle description, .22 rounds recovered. The police find an empty magazine at the area in which I was shot. They examine my leg wounds, and confirm them to also be caused by a .22.

Fast forward. I'm in the hospital. The nurse is using a turkey baster to clean my *** wounds. The round entered high in my left buttox and traveled to the back of my left thigh, where it exited. The nurse cleans my injured parts and proceeds to bandage them, gently, but the painkillers wore off half an hour ago. I have engaged the rail of the hospital bed in a death grip and will not let go until this woman ceases tampering with my ***. I steal a glance at the EKG and other readouts. Heart rate: 117. If you had a middle aged woman basting your wounds, you'd probably be around the same. She finished, tapes my *** shut, and goes to get my discharge paperwork started.

Fast forward. 7am. I'm finally home. I notice the bloody hand print I left on the door from closing it behind me at 12:30am. My hand is still stained with blood. My *** is under 3 pounds of gauze, and moving hurts. My work pants have a hole in them slightly smaller than ¼" and still have a blood stain. It's stiff and crunchy. I'm off work the next 3 days: doctor's orders. And now I'm here telling you this story. I'm not exactly sure why I'm doing it.

Guys, what the hell is going on in the world today? I don't know the clown who shot me. I don't know why they did it, or even who they were, or how many of them. All I know is I spent the last six hours in a hospital room bleeding from my backside and wearing a gown that made me glad I kept my boxers on. I probably have a huge bill coming my way, and I have no insurance. I make $1000 a month at most. This is retarded. On an exponential level. And the new paranoia I have isn't helping any more than the old paranoia.

I'd post pictures as proof, but I haven't taken them and I'm sure Massassi doesn't want to see my lily white ***.

Holy ****.

Damn, man, that's a hell of a story, and a hell of a thing to happen. Keep in mind that you're a real G at this point, and you're a certified hardass. You've been shot.

when i clicked i was kinda expecting questions about a good .22 caliber firearm...

never expecting "i got shot in the ***"

Just remember, it isn't likly to happen often, crikey, you could just as likly get run over by a bus tommorow

Best of luck with the recovery not that you should really need any luck like.

Photos might be fun for your kids/grandkids. "Look son/grandson, I was shot in the ***"

Strange thing is, I definately remember saying to my roomate Nic "If I ever get shot, I hope I get shot in the ***, since that's probably the least likely to be fatal."

Doctor's orders: No work for 3 days, go get percoset, sit on your *** as much as possible.

My *** hurts

Edit: In before Forrest Gump reference.

Crazy story. The person or people who shot you sound like real fools, though, so it seems likely they will get caught eventually. Let's hope you'll get your money back with interest then. If they were driving with a new SUV, they should have some money (unless it was stolen, of course...).

Wow... You're lucky the bullet didnt sever an artery or splinter a bone or anything.

Those were the two main concerns, actually. I found out that it was a through-and-through because my roommate Nic was in the room during my x-rays and he told me when they wheeled me back to my room.

Also, the nurse who was basting me mentioned that the bullet would have severed an artery if it had exited 2" to the left.

pictures.

Whoa, that's crazy. Getting shot doesn't sound like a very fun thing.

Though is it really necessary to start every paragraph with "fast forward"? I mean it's pretty easy to figure out that things are in chronological order. :p

If its gonna be a huge bill massassi need sto start a donation fund

Every time I open this thread I get phantom pain in my ***.

Wow.

Getting shot isn't fun.

.38

That sucks.

Did you get to keep the bullet?

That's crazy. I hope when you're 21 you buy a 45 so you can shoot back.

When I'm 21 I'm going to get a 76mm recoilless rifle mounted on my car.

Wow, a 76mm rifle. And recoil-less, no no less!

That'd be an antique for recoilless rifles...

That's ****ed up, Alan. Hopefully the police will find them, since they were brilliant enough to do it three times that evening.

Actually, I'm at a loss for words. The world is freakin' crazy. Ugh!

I hope your pasty, white *** (and thigh) heals soon.

I guess the only way it could have been worse is if the exit wound was a little more to the right...

So, what does it feel like to get shot?

Hey, why don't you get revenge and ride around on your bike shooting white or silver SUVs? Maybe you'll get lucky.

I'm uh... pretty sure he typed a few paragraphs about it.

Here's the thing about getting shot in the ***: if it DOES hit the artery, you're slightly more screwed than if it hit the artery further down the leg. There's a point on the inside of the leg (in/near the crotch, and on your arms, too, on the inside near the armpit) that you can apply pressure to which will limit blood loss from that artery. So...I think i'd rather be shot right in the meaty part of my thigh than right in the ***, especially with a .22, since they penetrate like crazy.

So...you're pretty lucky, for a dude who got shot in the ***.

http://www.armyvehicles.dk/willysmb_recoil.htm

Apparently it's 105mm instead.

Youch. Get well soon.

Dude, wow. The worst I've had is a pellet gun shoot out my tooth (for the record, the inside of your teeth taste horrible). You're lucky man, glad it wasn't a fatal shot or anything. That's why I'm going to carry a .40 in my car when I'm 21. Hope you get better. Hope you got to keep the bullet also

Good lord!

Geez, that's crazy. The world really is going to ****.

Anyway, take it easy, hope you feel better.

begin hiphop album production!

Sorry.


And it's a good thing they weren't aiming higher. Like at your head. If they had been there might not be a witness who can help bust them.

I was going to say "Where was this? It sounds pretty messed up", but it turns out that it's only about 30 minutes away from here.

Always look on the briiiiiight side of life...

Hahaha if Michael Moore was here, he'd be flaming all of you guys.

Gosh that movie he made made people with guns or in the NRA seem evil...

My english teacher quoted him, "Overweight lunatic making America seem bad." (not his existince in America being bad but his films that make seem America bad)

what part of through and through dont you and the other guy understand?

Can't believe all these portable guns started with this

Well I would have thought



would mean they found the bullets.

dot

Leg raised, pedaling...?

And guys this **** has happened forever, it's not a sign of the world going to ****.