Eating Asphalt

We were toned out for a bicycle accident a little after lunch. While hopping onto the rig I wondered what type of call this would be. One of the ones where I cringed and tried to figure out how that body part was contorted into that position or one where I handed out a band-aid for the boo boo.

As we approached the intersection of the reported accident we noticed a lone squad car in the parking lot. The officer had the patient sitting on the front bumper of his car and appeared to be trying to get some information from him. My next thought was, "Great, a boo boo."

As I approached I noticed that the teenage victim had dropped his backpack by his bicycle. Sticking out of it were two katana swords. I quietly gestured to the cop to look at the weapons. He replied that they had made him nervous too and that's why they were over there by the bike and not with the patient. He was supposedly on his way to some martial arts practice.

The kid was ok. He had a bit of road rash on his arms and a little bit on his forehead (no, he was not wearing a helmet). By the time we got there any wound that was oozing a little bit of blood had clotted. Unfortunately, because he was a minor, we couldn't just release him. Eventually PD was able to contact his mom, who was able to contact aunt who then came to pick him up. The AMR crew that had responded were more than willing to take a little break and wait with the young man.

Now what I don't get is how we were able to find him in the first place. I'm hoping the he didn't call 911. I'm going to assume that he didn't. But still, when I was his age I rode my bike, with my two best friends, all over Los Angeles. When we ate asphalt we didn't whine about it and we sure didn't stick around for cops or firefighters to come "help" us. We kept our man cards, got back on our bikes and rode off. Kids these days (picture me shaking my head).