Another night in Ross
10:25 PM |
Overheard as I set out a box of pizza at husband’s desk at the police department. He was in the jail cells section negotiating with a drunk guy:
Scene: Drunk guy is only mildly drunk and husband agrees to take him home as long as drunk guy agrees to stay inside for the rest of the night. Drunk guy agrees.
Husband: Okay, well I need your word that you’ll stay in, so I need you to shake on it.
Guy extends left hand.
Husband: No, no, no. You’ve got to shake with your right hand (Tries to get extra reassurance the drunk guy still has the motor skills and cognizance to determine left from right)
Drunk Guy holds back, begins to get angry.
Drunk Guy: No, man
Husband: Yup, it’s got to be the right hand, that’s how you shake on it.
Drunk Guy: No, man, with my left (voice rising)
Husband: Dude, give me your right hand and shake on it or you’ll be in cells tonight. Come on, I’m doing you a favour.
Drunk Guy: I don’t have a right hand!
Husband: What are you talking about? You’re starting to lose my trust here. Now, shake.
Drunk Guy: No, I mean, I don’t have a right hand!
He is very angry now and holds up his right arm, which comes to an end with a stump after his wrist.
Husband: (sheepishly) My bad. Alright, let’s get you home.
Oh, the things we have to discuss over dinner.
Labels: Ross River