Chasing Noodles
Last night I was knocked unconscious. Because of a noodle. I am not making this up.
Yesterday my volunteer group's mission was to hand out pamphlets to people on South Street. South Street is a tourist attraction and one of the wildest streets in Philadelphia. It's the only street that has a Condom City, A Gap , A Tower Records , a tattoo parlor and a new age incense store on the same block. It is packed year round. But before we hit there we were to put pamphlets in mail boxes in Society Hill. A section, as you may have guessed where very wealthy people live. It is also walking distance to South Street, much to the chagrin of the residents of Society Hill. South Street slowly grew over the years. I remember when all that was there was a heath food store my Father took us too. Then a TLA movie house started showing "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" there and it snowballed into what it is today. Sorry for the long set up, but it is necessary.
This was the first time Mike, my partner, drove the car and followed us. I begged him too because yesterday was a bad day for me. I was so exhausted I didn't think I'd make it through the night. OK, the set up is over.
No sooner then our group of gays and lesbians packed out of the van, that a woman came running down the street. She was screaming, "My Noodles, oh my god my Noodles", over and over again. Ricky, a wisp of a little queen whom I adore said quit seriously to me, "Isn't she over reacting a bit about burning her noodles?" As I doubled over laughing from this I saw that Mike finally found a parking space.
It turns out that "Noodles" was the name of her beagle and the dog ran out of the house. And the dog was headed right toward South Street. We all went into rescue mode immediately. Ricky stated running first. He was running exactly like the beginning of "The Mary Tyler Moore Show". You know where she runs across the street with her arm daintily waving beside her? Angie, a tank of a lesbian, barreled down the street like a juggernaut. Soon the whole groups of us were running down the street shouting "Noodles" at the top of our lungs. The range and variety of these screams had to be heard to be believed.
Finally I spotted Noodles sniffing around in a little park. I shouted," I found him" and tore ass toward him. Then everything went blank.
I woke up to see Mike's face staring into mine. Then I heard a chorus of people all shout, "He's alive!!" Apparently in my fervor, I didn't notice a low hanging branch and ran full steam into it. Right on the old noggin. I was knocked out for about ten minutes.
Here is the exchange that followed:
"Mike, are you OK?"
"I guess so, what the hell happened?"
"You ran into a tree. It knocked you out".
"Wow"
"Wow, is right, you scared the hell out of me. The ambulance is here, I'm going to tell them we're brothers so I can ride with you."
"Brothers!? Mike you're a 6'-3" Polish blond and I'm a 5'-9" Italian with black hair. Besides I'm not going to any hospital, I'm fine"
"No you're not, look at your hand"
Sure enough my hand was bleeding like crazy. I am extremely blood phobic, even with my own blood. I promptly passed right out.
When I woke up again I was in the ambulance with Mike and the lady who lost her dog. I whispered to Mike, "What is she doing here?" "She's our Mother, she adopted us both. Just remember to call her Mom", he replied. I glanced over to her and she gave me a big smile and I wink. Then I asked Mike," How did you explain that she named both her children Michael?" "I told them the Polish name for Michael, they didn't have a clue"
We were in and out pretty quickly. I didn't have a concussion, just a lump the size of a grapefruit. And two stitches on my pinkie. I'll survive.
Yesterday my volunteer group's mission was to hand out pamphlets to people on South Street. South Street is a tourist attraction and one of the wildest streets in Philadelphia. It's the only street that has a Condom City, A Gap , A Tower Records , a tattoo parlor and a new age incense store on the same block. It is packed year round. But before we hit there we were to put pamphlets in mail boxes in Society Hill. A section, as you may have guessed where very wealthy people live. It is also walking distance to South Street, much to the chagrin of the residents of Society Hill. South Street slowly grew over the years. I remember when all that was there was a heath food store my Father took us too. Then a TLA movie house started showing "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" there and it snowballed into what it is today. Sorry for the long set up, but it is necessary.
This was the first time Mike, my partner, drove the car and followed us. I begged him too because yesterday was a bad day for me. I was so exhausted I didn't think I'd make it through the night. OK, the set up is over.
No sooner then our group of gays and lesbians packed out of the van, that a woman came running down the street. She was screaming, "My Noodles, oh my god my Noodles", over and over again. Ricky, a wisp of a little queen whom I adore said quit seriously to me, "Isn't she over reacting a bit about burning her noodles?" As I doubled over laughing from this I saw that Mike finally found a parking space.
It turns out that "Noodles" was the name of her beagle and the dog ran out of the house. And the dog was headed right toward South Street. We all went into rescue mode immediately. Ricky stated running first. He was running exactly like the beginning of "The Mary Tyler Moore Show". You know where she runs across the street with her arm daintily waving beside her? Angie, a tank of a lesbian, barreled down the street like a juggernaut. Soon the whole groups of us were running down the street shouting "Noodles" at the top of our lungs. The range and variety of these screams had to be heard to be believed.
Finally I spotted Noodles sniffing around in a little park. I shouted," I found him" and tore ass toward him. Then everything went blank.
I woke up to see Mike's face staring into mine. Then I heard a chorus of people all shout, "He's alive!!" Apparently in my fervor, I didn't notice a low hanging branch and ran full steam into it. Right on the old noggin. I was knocked out for about ten minutes.
Here is the exchange that followed:
"Mike, are you OK?"
"I guess so, what the hell happened?"
"You ran into a tree. It knocked you out".
"Wow"
"Wow, is right, you scared the hell out of me. The ambulance is here, I'm going to tell them we're brothers so I can ride with you."
"Brothers!? Mike you're a 6'-3" Polish blond and I'm a 5'-9" Italian with black hair. Besides I'm not going to any hospital, I'm fine"
"No you're not, look at your hand"
Sure enough my hand was bleeding like crazy. I am extremely blood phobic, even with my own blood. I promptly passed right out.
When I woke up again I was in the ambulance with Mike and the lady who lost her dog. I whispered to Mike, "What is she doing here?" "She's our Mother, she adopted us both. Just remember to call her Mom", he replied. I glanced over to her and she gave me a big smile and I wink. Then I asked Mike," How did you explain that she named both her children Michael?" "I told them the Polish name for Michael, they didn't have a clue"
We were in and out pretty quickly. I didn't have a concussion, just a lump the size of a grapefruit. And two stitches on my pinkie. I'll survive.
posted by mike in philly at 9:28 AM
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