Chapter Thirty Seven; The Adventure of the Innocent Bystanders

I am just going to skip to the good part. Which involves a lot of blood and the hottest man alive.

This weekend’s episode of the Adventures of Sonja and Audra lands us in the emergency room with a six foot four 235 pound Greek god.

And how exactly do I know his stats? I told you. We were in the emergency room. He had to slur them to the admissions nurse. And when he did, Sonja and I just stood behind him and tried not to drool even more. (Who am I kidding? It would have been impossible to produce more saliva than we already had. At this point, a bib would have been a completely practical and useful item for both of us.)

And now, flashing back to the vital beginning that sets this whole crazy story up:

The god in the ER is a stranger who Sonja and I just happened to be in the presence of when, after he apparently ingested far too much alcohol, (for shame, I am appalled. Who does that?!?!? Cough. Cough. And . . . Cough!), promptly staggered so profoundly he collapsed onto the concrete and cracked his head open right before our lusting eyes.

The god was mortal after all. Because he was bleeding. A lot. From beneath one beautiful head of jet black hair.

This. Was not good.

Not good at all.

(The blood part. The hair, was amazing.)

Thankfully, the entire scene happened right next to Sonja’s Lexus. None of Greek god’s friends were in any capacity to drive, so we “nobly” volunteered. (Is there anything REALLY noble about saying, “Put that cutest boy in the whole entire universe into our car so we can molest…I mean abduct….I mean rescue him!”? Well, we like to think so.)

Five minutes later, Sonja’s $300 mini dress (that I had borrowed for the night) is full of blood and we are wheeling bleeding boy’s hot ass into the emergency room.

Kidding aside, we were truly concerned. (I mean, who would want anything to happen to this epitome of sheer perfection? What we should have done is wheeled him in screaming, “Code Red! Code Red!” when I think about it.)

The nurse is slightly concerned about a concussion but she doesn’t think the cut will even require stitches. She thanks us for bringing this stranger into the ER. Sonja and I humbly accept her Good Samaritan label as she asks us if we will sit with him in the waiting room.

Let’s see. Hmmm. Should we stay?

Uh, duh. The nurse is obviously a lesbian. Who wouldn’t give both breasts to sit next to this guy?

Two chicks named Audra and Sonja. That’s who.

So here we are. In the ER waiting room. Me. Sonja. And the bleeding hottie. Who is repeatedly slurring, “You’re so pretty, you're so pretty, you're so pretty” in my direction.

I decide to hold his hand.

It was the least I could do.

Sonja leans over and gently touches his bicep.

“What the hell are you doing?” I ask.

“He’s just so perfect! I just had to touch him,” Sonja nonchalantly confesses.

“Oh good god.”

“Oh good god nothing, you’re holding his freaking hand!”

I tell Sonja to bite me and then shift the conversation back to a responsible adult dimension, “Should we see if there is someone in his phone we can call? His friends? To let them know he is okay?”

“Alright,” Sonja agrees. “But where is his phone?”

“I think it’s in his front pocket.”

Sonja looks like she’d just won an all expense paid trip to babe land as she retrieves his phone from his pants, trying not to pant.

“Would you stop date raping the patient,” I chastise, “and just read off the names. Let’s just pick one.”

“Okay. Good idea.” She agrees, and then begins to recite the alphabetical listings from Greek god’s phone, “Aimee, Allison, Amber, Amanda, Ashlee.” She stops, looks up, and just shakes her head.

I smirk, “Nice. Skip to the B’s.”

Sonja looks back at the phone and her mouth drops open as she collapses into silent hysterics.

“What?”

She can barely speak, she is curled up in the waiting room chair hanging onto her stomach and clutching hot boy’s digital babe list. She finally collects herself and announces between giggles, “Big Pimpin’ Sam. The next name. Is Big Pimpin’ Sam.”

I die. Right there. I just die.

Only us.

Only us.

I finally quit (quietly) laughing (this is an ER waiting room, people are somewhere between a 5 and an 8 on the pain scale around us) and ask Sonja to hand me the phone. As she does it rings.

“Who is it?” Sonja asks.

I take a look at the screen and dead pan, “You have to ask?”

Sonja is once again soundlessly writhing in her seat.

I answer and explain to Sam, aka Big Pimp, that his friend is at the ER but that he is going to be okay. We are just waiting for him to be admitted. I instruct Sam (and his bitches, just in case he really is a pimp) that they will just have to figure out how to retrieve hot bleeding boy later. Sonja and I, as much as we love this delicious example of the male anatomy, can not stay here all night long.

Sam actually doesn’t sound remotely pimpish. He sounds frantic, grateful and relieved.

Hottest/Cutest/Best Looking damn man we’ve ever seen in our lives soon passes out in his wheelchair. My fingers have long lost their feeling but I really don’t mind.

This is the most action I’ve had since February.

Sonja goes to the nurses’ station to announce his comatose status, as we have been instructed to do if he loses consciousness.

An orderly returns and asks, “You two were the innocent bystanders who brought him in?”

“Yep, that would be us. Totally innocent.” Sonja confirms.

“And absolutely only bystanding.” I add.

“Well thank you so much for doing that. I will take him back now. You’re free to go.”

Me and my blue fingers blow kisses to the dark haired blued eyed loveliest thing I’ve ever seen as Sonja pulls me and my bloody dress out of the ER.

“Wow.” she comments as she starts her car, “I feel bad he was hurt. But he was SO HOT! Do you think we’ll ever see him again?”

I just smirk, “Who knows. But the next time he calls Ariel or Aurora, he might just wonder who this “Audra the Nurse” is in his contact list.”

“You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did. I so. Absolutely did.”