The Trip to White Plains Ny (part 3)

*ThePoison left after i met him and went to LA to work on another hospital. He would call the DuBois crew and take up all of their space on their voicemails.

Creepy Douche*

Imagine the world after a nuclear blast. Imagine that your left with a handful of people that make you realize that God has your nuts in a vise.

Imagine that the only music left is Papa Roach. (if you think that is an ok situation, kill yourself.) And that they love this music.

Yea, something like that.

Imagine finding out that your girlfriends grandfather that he was dying, with no chance to hold her and having no chance to console her, because you are 400+ miles away.

Imagine moving hospital beds in 115 degree heat. Then imagine that its done on the geriatric floor, so the entire floor smells of piss. Old people piss.

Hemingway said that no man is an island.

He was right. During my time in New York, i missed firemans week, fathers day, and most importantly, my baby sisters 5th birthday. If you ever want to have your heart ripped out, call home and be told that your baby sister cried her eyes out when she heard the message you left wishing her a happy birthday on your answering machine.

This was like going with 15 with Tyson, emotionally.

Imagine what you would do...

I did the wrong thing.

I bottled.

Then i opened up on the wrong people. My relationship with Love will be forever sabotaged because of this trip and my inability to direct anger at the right people.

(then again, if i could direct my anger correctly, i would never would have started writing these stories.)

Oh yea, i did this for 12 hours a day.

7 days a week.

for $10 dollars an hour.

After the trip, i found out that "the temps" aka the white plains help, was making $15 dollars an hour.

They were lucky i didnt find that piece of info out when i was on this trip.

Ape shit like you would have never seen.