Drama, Drama, Drama.

Last night my sister and I were hanging out in our p.j's on my bed just before we were going to sleep. I had opened the window to enjoy the cool breeze and talk nonsense with the youngest in the family. During our whimsical wonderings, we heard the squeal of dirt bike tires. Neither of us thought anything of it since people dirt bike on the path behind our house quite a bit. However, a few minutes later there came a sound like a teenage boy who was trying to birth something. His caterwauling male like noise continued for a few minutes. We both went downstairs to investigate. It looked like a small group of teens were just hanging out and making stupid noises. Thinking to warn them I went outside and yelled across the lawn that the people's house they were in front of would probably call the cops on them. "Dude, someone's hurt over here" was the reply. "What happened?" I asked. I was promptly informed that some kid had fallen off his buddies dirt bike and smacked his head. I then asked if anyone over there knew first aid. No, was the answer.
Having gotten my WFA and my first aid I never thought I would actually have to use it. Before I knew it I was saying 'hello my name is Dee, I know first aid. Can I help you?' strange since we make fun of it up north all the time. I think I was smiling when I said it. As it was Kevin (the idiot who hurt himself) was on the ground freaking out and was to drunk to notice my smirk. His girlfriend was cradling the teens head. You could smell the alcohol from feet away. The girlfriend was crying and jabbering on about how kevin couldn't die and 'please baby don't leave me'. Meanwhile I'm calming Kevin down looking at his head wounds and his pupils. He keeps trying to get up. It was a bit of a handful and I was getting pretty frusterated. The saving grace was his buddy who was standing next to me helping me out. Kevin is freaking out because he had chipped his tooth and couldn't figure out how he had fallen off the bike. His friend ticked at him yells, 'you f***ing idiot you were a moron and fell of your buddies dirt bike, so shut the f*** up!' It almost helped. Kevin was convinced he was going to die. I kept telling him as long as he was talking to me he wouldn't die. Unfortunately part of me hoped he'd stop yelling in my ear about his bumped head and chipped tooth. He'd scraped himself up pretty good but he'd live.
I was relieved when not only the firetruck, ambulance and cop pulled up. ( apparently when his girlfriend had placed the call on the cell phone she was screaming incoherently so 911 probably had no clue what had happened) I didn't have to keep Kevin from trying to get up, and freaking out anymore. I watched with some amusement as the ambulance attendants told him to smarten up. Meanwhile the cop was trying to reason with the 16 year old girlfriend who was ripped out of her mind.
Thankfully things settled down relatively quickly. Explaining the bloodstains on the driveway to my 70 year old neighbours will be another matter all together. For all the drama that was happening not one of my neighbours in our quiet suburban neighbourhood had a clue what had happend last night. At least when the teens go back to school on Monday they'll have an amazing soap opera story about the life and death struggle of drunken 'f***ing moron' Kevin.