Guy goes to the paint store, buys some white paint. Driving back to his mother’s house in the north end of the city he is driving through a green light when bam. He gets slammed by a car being chased by the police. The other car rolls. A fire hydrant is hit. Water sprays everywhere. The guys in the rolled car get out and run down the street, the cops in foot pursuit. The other guy gets out of the car feels pain in his legs and lays down on the sidewalk.

When we get there, I see the guy on the sidewalk. His face and shirt are white with goop. I look inside the car. There is an exploded paint can. We board and collar him and take him to the hospital.

I check in with him later and he is all cleaned up. “Dude,” I say, “I thought you were a white guy. I was thinking what are you doing in this part of town?”

***

Later we go to a nursing home for a lady who lost control of her motorized wheel chair and slammed her foot into her bed. The first thing I ask for is her licence and registration. My day to be the comedian. I’m going to have to draw blood to check your alcohol level, I say.

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A three year-old hits his head. The cops are questioning the mother when we get there. It looks like an accident. The kid just banged his head. He didn’t lose conciousness — he just hurts when he moves his head. His mother has to be six two and well over four hundred pounds — she has a big belly hanging out under her tee-shirt. She wears yellow fuzzy duck slippers. She is cuddling the little boy to her when I come in like he is a tiny baby doll.

When we take him in the ambulance, she starts singing to him as tears flow down her cheeks. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine (sob) you make me happy when times are grey (sob sob) You never know dear how much I love you, don’t take my sunshine away. (sob) Sing it with me now little one… You are my sunshine…”

Her voice is high and scratchy. I am worried if she falls forward, she is going to crush the little boy. He looks very scared, laying all bundled up on the backboard holding his teddy bear.

“Who does your mommy love most in the world?”

“Me,” he says, and smiles.

“Who’s my daddy?” she asks him.

“Me,” he says in a soft quiet voice.

“That’s right,” she says. “You will always be my little daddy.”

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Terry is a pisser. She’s a tiny little lady who’s almost sixty, looks almost fifty, and acts twenty-nine.

Friday night is her night on the ambulance. She does the 23:00 to 8:00 shift with Alan and Ken. I come in at 6:00 to relieve Alan.

She is having a friend and the friend’s boyfriend over for lunch at her house.

“Terry’s quite a wild woman,” her friend tells the boyfriend. “She’s married, but every Friday night she sleeps with other men.”

“That’s right,” Terry says. “And tonight’s my night out.”

The boyfriend looks puzzled. “What does your husband think about that?”

“He wasn’t happy at first, but he got used to it.”

“You sleep with other men?”

“Usually two, another one comes in at six. The more the merrier I say.”

Terry’s son enters the room then.

“Ask my son,” Terry says.

“What does your mom do on Friday nights?”

“Sleeps with other men,” he says without missing a beat. He kisses her and wishes her a good day.

“She has a signup list. Maybe you can put your name on it.”

“I occasionally have openings,” Terry says, “But I think I’m booked for the next couple weeks. I do enjoy new partners.”

The phone rings. Its Alan. “Hey,” she says. “You bet we’re on for tonight. ” She says to the man. “One of my guys.” Back into the phone. “I’ll be there ready to ride at eleven o’clock. All night long if neccessary. You bet. Hold on a minute. There’s a gentleman here who has a question for you.” She hands the phone to the man. “As him if you want.”

“What are you doing tonight?” he asks.

“Sleeping with Terry. Every Friday night,” Alan says. “Though some nights we don’t sleep at all.”

“You’ve heard of the red light district,” Terry says. “That’s where I am every Friday night.”

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