One for the road

When I came in to work on Monday, it was just another week at work. It wasn't until lunchtime that someone told me the Girl Next Door had been in a scooter accident the Friday before. I'd seen the huge splotches of iodine and medicine all over her legs, but not paying attention, I'd thought they were actually just decorative tights.

She wore a skirt on Monday because the friction from pants against the wounds was too painful. She was taking itty bitty baby steps to get anywhere to avoid any pressure on her legs. She even had to get 3 stitches on her chin, despite wearing a motorcycle helmet (full visor), which is beyond the requirement traffic laws impose here. You could pretty much wear anything that resembles a helmet.

Yesterday she didn't come to work at all because apparently her legs had swollen up. Poor gal.

During a conversation with another coworker, my manager expressed concern about the GND and me (he knows I'm looking at getting a scooter). He even offered that if we wanted to buy a car and needed some help financing one, he could make arrangements with the company to have funds advanced to us.

But I'm still getting a scooter.