Pity Parade

“It could be worse.”

“I suppose it could always be worse. I could be a cockaroach that just got stepped on. But this pretty much sucks.”

“What happened?”

“I was playing basketball going for a rebound when someone undercut my legs with their body. I must have jumped my highest height because I had enough time to consider whether or not I should stop my fall with my hand. I decided to. I got up and I was able to move my hand in every direction. It hurt but I figured I just sprained it.  But that night I was in so much pain I couldn’t sleep. I went to the emergency room the next morning where they x-rayed me and discovered a broken bone in my wrist. Monday I find out whether I need surgery or get my hand in a cast for two to three months.”

“Your left hand?”

“My fucking right hand.”

“But you’re a lefty?”

“I am a Communist, but I have trouble doing everything with my left hand from writing to eating to typing this stupid thing.”

“At least you’ve got your health.”

“Fuck you.”

“Have you learned anything from this?”

“Not to mock doctors. I guess I’m a little proud that I finished playing the basketball game with a broken bone in my hand. I even scored a basket. That’s pretty badass, isn’t it?”

“Did you win?”

“No.”

“Well then it sounds like you’re just a loser who has trouble wiping his own ass.”

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