Bus-te-e-ed!

 

Okay. I must simply share this little story, as it is so typically Babellian, and perhaps even more typically Brer-bellian. Yesterday I had to voyage to the hospital for some follow-up with my vascular doctor. This entailed walking several blocks to catch a local bus, and then quite a hump through the medical center to his office. Not too kind to my arthritis. The good news was that my arteries and veins were looking pretty good (except for some constriction to my left foot, though blood was still going to my toes okay) and my stents seemed fine; the bad news (not altogether unexpected) was the X-ray of my right knee did not look good at all; I'll be going to another doctor about setting up a knee replacement (strangely enough the same doctor who oversaw Mom's knee replacements forty years ago). So far, so good. Now I had to go to the bus stop to make my way home.

While I can be delivered right to the hospital by 'special arrangement', to catch the bus again I have to trudge to one of two stops: a nearer one at Walmart, and one across a busy main road at the farther HEB. As I had some prescriptions ready at the pharmacy there, and I could save almost $8 by picking them up myself, I decided HEB it was, and set out.

The day was clear and hot by then, my friend. I have to point out that in all my sixty-one years, I have been a stickler about crossing the road. Some of my relatives have berated me about standing by my standards. But today, temptation raised its ugly head. My knee was already hurting badly. I was getting sweaty, and panting. As I slogged along the sidewalk, leaning on two canes, I noticed the traffic was pretty clear both ways. The crosswalk with its regulating lights seemed so far away. Temptation reared its ugly head, and I decided it would be all right, just this once, to jaywalk. 

I had no sooner made my way half across the roads when a black-and-white came gliding up silently out of nowhere to my side, going the other way. A policeman, looking out the window, firmly but courteously informed me I was jaywalking, and 'don't do that'. Somewhat flabbergasted (and busted) I babbled 'Oh, yes, sir!' and he glided on. As I was already halfway over I proceeded (illegally) to my destination. I got my medicine at HEB (three prescriptions) and (surpisingly) some egg nog; they already had about seven containers of various sizes. 

But the one time - the one time! - in sixty-one years I have every jaywalked, and I was busted. I guess it just goes to show: Crime Does Not Pay. Oh, and Safety First.