Spoiler alert: he’s okay!
So…you know that thing where you’re two thirds of the way through getting a huge surprise “you wanna do it now?” tattoo and then the phone’s for you? And then it’s something serious and you aren’t sure if you should get up or keep getting tattooed?
I had that yesterday.
Me: “Hello?” lying on the table, Kyle just tattooing away.
Ryan: “Hey. Don’t worry, everything’s fine.”
Ryan: “I’m at the hospital. I was in a car accident.”
Okay everybody, if you are fine, but have been in a car accident and are at the hospital, this is the correct way to notify somebody. Tell them you’re okay BEFORE you tell them you got in an accident! I seriously appreciated that he spared me the heart attack, you know?
So what happened was Ryan was on his way to work yesterday, just minding his own business, stopped at a stop light, when WHAM! Someone hit him from behind, going full speed. He never even tried to hit the brakes, from what the witnesses say.
He hit him so hard that even though Ryan had stopped three or four feet away from the car in front of him, his car was propelled forward so much that he crashed super hard into that car too. He doesn’t remember this at all, but apparently our car is like a freakin’ accordion, and the firemen had a hard time getting him out of there because the doors are fucked.
He was taken away on a stretcher, and woke up in the hospital. The first thing he said was “Is everybody else okay?” which is so Ryan, he’s amazing. The nurses laughed at him because the next thing he said was “I need to be out of here by Thursday to pick up my kids!”
They were like “okay we know we’re slow, but we’re not that slow.”
So anyway, he called me after they did all their tests, x-rays, etc. because he didn’t want me to rush out of my tattoo appointment for no reason. He took a taxi home, and was there when I got home later on.
I’m not as heartless as this makes me sound, of course I asked him if I should come down there! But the thing is…we don’t have a car now, so um…we would have ended up taking the bus or a taxi anyway, and it would have taken me around 45 minutes – an hour to get there. It was just logical that I didn’t go.
Kyle was like “okay I’m still trying to do a good job here, but I’ll stop fucking around and hurry up so you can get home.”
I actually think I hurt myself a bit getting home, I definitely feel it this morning in my busted feet…I wasn’t thinking about walking slowly and carefully, I was thinking “I HAVE TO SEE HIM NOW” and I have a sore throat and stuffy nose too?? What the? That has to be Ryan’s fault too, right? haha
So long story short, I got a fucking bad-ass tattoo, Ryan has torn muscles all up in his neck and back, we have a lot of paperwork and car rentals, etc. to do, and yesterday was a lot more exciting than I had anticipated it being.
The on-scene policeman didn’t write down the other driver’s information (THE FUCK?!) so the insurance guy is all like “We can’t say who was at fault.” Um…HE WAS STOPPED AT A RED LIGHT. HUH?
— Anyway here’s my tattoo —