The Butcher Shop, The Swap Meet, The Bus

A bicyclist passed me full speed; almost knocked off my hat. Funny thing was, I was sort of checking him out. I looked at his legs and I knew those could be my legs. I have these little plastic tubes in my backpack and all I’d have to do is just bundle up all the nerves I can and shove’em into the adapter, then do the same thing with my knee. Hurts like hell but if you need a new leg, right then you do what you got to do.

I can’t believe I even have that thought in me. That guy’s a person and I’m judging him by parts. I guess once you’ve parted out a person, it gets easier to think of people by their parts. God, that was a bad day and it’s still in me I guess. My southpaw twitches, I think it might just remember.

Twenty years ago, I was on the bus going home with some new parts I found cheap. Basically same tubes I have in my pocket, back then I got them for five each and felt lucky. They have a lot of applications but I was using them to extend my speaker wire with minimal loss. They were a bit more than I needed but a bargain is a bargain.

Ten seconds before I get off at my stop, a mortar shell hits right next to us. We knew they were coming but you get use to the risk. The consequences however I find myself less adaptive to. The bus actually flipped, and then crashed to it’s side. A lucky few of us survived, cushioned by the unlucky. None of us were exactly intact. Ambulances were hours if not a day from actually coming around to rescuing us. If we wanted everything we had, we had to work for it.

Between us we had scrounged up basically everything you need for a… well we called them swap meets back then. The process is simple you first divide customer from product. If they have a pulse it’s a customer; if not product. Then you find the best part for the customer. Between us we had about fifteen of those special tubes, ten knives and three capable saws. We also had ten rolls of that special tape, you know the stuff, with the coagulation aiding germs.

Look, we pretty much walked around like hobo boy scouts back in those days. If we could see a function and we could we carry it, we did. Paid off too, we taped and tubed maybe three dozen organs and appendages together. Saved twelve people with only three ahem usable products. Helped myself to this here lefty, it’s a little small but I like it. Can’t shoot or cast a line but it can pick stuff up, punch, claw and pry. Really, I can’t complain.

It’s just sometimes I feel guilty is all.

Sorry, guess I ruined your lunch. Make it up to you later, I promise.

1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Carson Margedant
    May 30, 2011 @ 08:33:25

    Happy Memorial Day, it’s a war story of sorts. If you want something more apropo it’s a bit hammy but this will be a bit closer to the sentiment. Sadly, I write what I got. Haven’t got a single holiday right yet.
    edit: which in turn was written on Christmas Eve and is in no way in the Xmas spirit.


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