I screwed up
No, I'm not talking about losing my clothes or my cell phone or my keys, although I did pretty screw up a really nice t-shirt. Nope, this time I really messed up, and on top of that, I'm in a little bit of pain at the moment, so I hope you'll bear with me while I tell you about it.
Tonight, I was feeling, well, bored and useless, so I went down to New Orleans to try and see if I couldn't give the National Guard a hand reeling in the crime problem down there. Let me tell you, it was really depressing seeing some of those neighborhoods like totally messed up. Other parts were pretty much ok, but, even at night, I got a feeling like the place is really not the same. Not that I'd seen it before, but I saw the news and all.
Anyways, I found myself a cute little national guard guy and talked him up, finding out like where all those shootings were and stuff, and then I went to check it out. I was there for like ten minutes or so, talking with some of the people (yeah there are like real people down there, moms and kids, and all) before I heard gunfire. I flew over a couple of blocks and got there just in time for like a firefight, I guess you call it. There were like two sets of guys shooting at each other across the street, like hiding behind cars and stuff.
I landed and disarmed two of them, but one of their buddies (I'm pretty sure he was on the same side 'cause he was so close) shot me, right in the left boob. Now, let me be right up front, it didn't bleed or anything, but it hurt like the dickens, and I got a little red mark that still stings. No biggie, really, although it didn't seem like that at the time. At the time, I was really pissed and I grabbed the guy too hard, I think. Bastard started choking on me, like I had crushed his windpipe or something.
So here I am, trying to like do a traychiometry or something on him (I saw that on ER), when two cops pull up in a silver cadillac escalade, yelling at me and stuff. Soon as the cops showed up, the fight stopped, and the guy I'd grabbed was like dying, so I grabbed one cop and told him to call an ambulance before I took the other cop by the back of his shirt and brought him over to the guy laying there. For awhile, I thought he'd make it, but when the paramedics finally made it, they said it was too late.
Man, I'm pissed at myself. Not only did I not stop the fight in time (two other guys got shot and one died), but I basically killed a guy just cause he couldn't aim straight 'cause of my boobs. I mean, I swear, if he'd shot me anywhere else, I really doubt I'd have reacted like that. I've been shot in the stomach before, and it hurt, but not like that.
Damn, you know the worst part? I'm sitting here rubbing this little red spot, and there's not a damn thing I can do about the pain except wait. None of those numbing creams do shit for me, and I took like a half dozen Ibuprofen and it didn't do diddly.
I know, I'm a frigging wimp, whining about a little bitty welt that will be good as new in a couple of hours, but I'm not used to pain. And besides, that's not what really hurts. What hurts is I messed up. Superman never accidentally kills people and neither does Wonderwoman. Heck, even Buffy doesn't accidentally stake humans, and she's almost as goofy as I am sometimes.
I feel like such a dork. I'd get drunk, only, it'd wear off so fast it wouldn't be worth it.
Damn, what a night. I want to go to bed and never wake up.
Daph
Tonight, I was feeling, well, bored and useless, so I went down to New Orleans to try and see if I couldn't give the National Guard a hand reeling in the crime problem down there. Let me tell you, it was really depressing seeing some of those neighborhoods like totally messed up. Other parts were pretty much ok, but, even at night, I got a feeling like the place is really not the same. Not that I'd seen it before, but I saw the news and all.
Anyways, I found myself a cute little national guard guy and talked him up, finding out like where all those shootings were and stuff, and then I went to check it out. I was there for like ten minutes or so, talking with some of the people (yeah there are like real people down there, moms and kids, and all) before I heard gunfire. I flew over a couple of blocks and got there just in time for like a firefight, I guess you call it. There were like two sets of guys shooting at each other across the street, like hiding behind cars and stuff.
I landed and disarmed two of them, but one of their buddies (I'm pretty sure he was on the same side 'cause he was so close) shot me, right in the left boob. Now, let me be right up front, it didn't bleed or anything, but it hurt like the dickens, and I got a little red mark that still stings. No biggie, really, although it didn't seem like that at the time. At the time, I was really pissed and I grabbed the guy too hard, I think. Bastard started choking on me, like I had crushed his windpipe or something.
So here I am, trying to like do a traychiometry or something on him (I saw that on ER), when two cops pull up in a silver cadillac escalade, yelling at me and stuff. Soon as the cops showed up, the fight stopped, and the guy I'd grabbed was like dying, so I grabbed one cop and told him to call an ambulance before I took the other cop by the back of his shirt and brought him over to the guy laying there. For awhile, I thought he'd make it, but when the paramedics finally made it, they said it was too late.
Man, I'm pissed at myself. Not only did I not stop the fight in time (two other guys got shot and one died), but I basically killed a guy just cause he couldn't aim straight 'cause of my boobs. I mean, I swear, if he'd shot me anywhere else, I really doubt I'd have reacted like that. I've been shot in the stomach before, and it hurt, but not like that.
Damn, you know the worst part? I'm sitting here rubbing this little red spot, and there's not a damn thing I can do about the pain except wait. None of those numbing creams do shit for me, and I took like a half dozen Ibuprofen and it didn't do diddly.
I know, I'm a frigging wimp, whining about a little bitty welt that will be good as new in a couple of hours, but I'm not used to pain. And besides, that's not what really hurts. What hurts is I messed up. Superman never accidentally kills people and neither does Wonderwoman. Heck, even Buffy doesn't accidentally stake humans, and she's almost as goofy as I am sometimes.
I feel like such a dork. I'd get drunk, only, it'd wear off so fast it wouldn't be worth it.
Damn, what a night. I want to go to bed and never wake up.
Daph
posted by Daphne @ 8:17 AM
6 Comments:
At 8/01/2006 11:57 AM,
Skye said…
Don't be too hard on yourself. Even though you weren't really in danger, it doesn't change what he tried to do. Kill you.
I know how bad it feels to kill someone, both by accident and intentionally, but don't expect to much from yourself. You've never had any combat training, have you? WW surely did. And Superman, well I think he is just too much bigger than life.
Even though it might sound somewhat hollow right now, you can believe me. Given enough time and practice you'll learn to avoid accidents like this. If you want to talk, you've got my address. (On gmail;)
At 8/01/2006 1:10 PM,
Anonymous said…
That same guy would have probably killed a kid or a little old lady the next day and not even felt bad about it.
And Skye's right: what you really need is practice. Only, where're you going to get it? The FBI doesn't offer courses in riot control for supergirls.
Maybe you could war-game things with a few friends, using pea shooters or paint guns, just to get your moves right.
At 8/01/2006 2:49 PM,
Daphne said…
Thanks guys.
Its real nice to know someone has sympathy for me anyway. And I suppose practice is probably the only way I'm going to avoid stuff like that.
However, Brantley, don't take this personally, but there is like NO way I'm going to practice "moves" on my friends. I mean, maybe if my problem was like dodging bullets and stuff, but there's just no way I'm going to risk not being gentle enough with my friends. And the whole dodging bullets thing is sort of silly anyway, 'cause I can do that, speed things up enough that I could pull bullets out of the air and all.
Problem is, though, when I move that fast, one, I can't like talk to anybody or anything. And two, in addition to being hell on my clothes, there's like air waves or something too that messes with people and stuff.
Skye, I may just email you. You may have some practical advice and stuff. Like, it OUGHT to be pretty easy to like disarm a half dozen guys or so before they could blink. But every time I do that, I end up breaking fingers and stuff when they can't let go of their guns fast enough. Ever had that problem?
At 8/01/2006 3:16 PM,
Skye said…
I don't think practicing with your friends would be such a good idea. After all you'll try to learn how to avoid hurting ordinary people.
I think it may be for a reason that neither surgeons nor barbers start their education using (living) people.
At least for the first couple of sessions I'd suggest training with someone at least equally tough. Tomorrow I've got some (unpleasant, I fear) work to do, but from 2000 hours GMT onward, I'll be available if you'd like to make plans.
At 8/01/2006 3:23 PM,
Skye said…
Hmm, maybe we should use a chat of some kind.
Well, breaking fingers is a tricky problem, especially with rifles. Since I don't do much crimefighting, I've never had to put much thought into it. You should be able to snatch pistols without doing to much harm if you try to turn them sideways before taking them. Rifles on the other hand are usually held to tightly to do someting like that.
At 8/01/2006 3:38 PM,
Daphne said…
Skye,
Um, I think, if GMT means what I think it does, that that's like mid
afternoon here, which would normally be cool, because its still summer vacation, but I've got tentative plans for tomorrow, which I got to check on
before I can like commit to anything. I'll drop you an email in a few minutes.
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