The scene is the line for admitting area for the Misericordia Hospital, just past midnight. Andrew sits on a chair, obviously in agony. Tiina hovers over his shoulder. A nurse (I think she was a nurse) is just finishing asking some questions you'd think she'd know the answer to, seeing as Andrew was here around a year ago for exactly the same thing, albeit a slightly less excruciating form of it.
NURSE: Do you still live at that place with all the drug deals in front of it?
ANDREW: Yes.
TIINA: But the cops did a sweep and arrested thirty people in the last week, so there aren't as many drug deals now.
NURSE: Oh, that must be why he didn't show--uh, birthday?
ANDREW: June--today, actually.
NURSE: Happy birthday.
ANDREW: Thanks.
NURSE: Do you know what caused the pain?
TIINA: Karma?
***
That was the only time I laughed all night.
AND IT REALLY #*&%ING HURT.
***
The nurse didn't really call our house the place where all the drug deals took place. But the cops apparently did do a sweep of the neighbourhood and arrest more than twenty "Dial-a-Dopers". I guess that explains the weird, chatty woman who started an impromptu conversation with me and T for five minutes just as we were about to drive away the other day.
***
Hmmm. I wonder what the start-up costs for a drug-dealing operation are? Looks like the area's got a niche that needs filling...
(That's a joke, BTW. I'm paranoid enough when I'm not doing anything naughty. If I actually did something illegal, my head would explode the first time I saw a police car.)
A
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