This entry contains a set of pictures from the Archipelago of San Andrés, Providencia, and Santa Catalina of Colombia in the southwestern Caribbean Sea. They are topically unrelated to this entry and are just here to break up the text with some pretty tropical island pictures.
Sunday night at Trade, the bartender Aaron Riggins dislocated my left shoulder in an episode in which he was suddenly and without warning throwing me out of the bar for no legitimate reason I can determine.
I don't think I've ever been in such excruciating pain as I was yesterday even as my left arm was useless and immobile. My good friend and neighbor, Fred, took me via Uber to the Georgetown Hospital emergency room around 7:30 p.m. last night and -- after five hours, some additional excruciating pain, and a wild ride in room #13 of the ER involving two doctors and a nurse "relocating" my shoulder, during which time Fred stayed by my side -- we took an Uber back home.
God, that was painful. I felt like I was in some weird ER version of The Exorcist (and Georgetown Hospital is a Jesuit - Catholic hospital, so I guess that's appropriate). Having said that, though, those doctors, nurses, and other staff really are tremendous. (And Georgetown is such an easier hospital to navigate and handle than George Washington.)
While I am feeling indescribably better than yesterday, when I was in such pain that I actually felt nauseous and as though I was going to pass out, I'm still a long way from being fully recovered.
I have to wear a special sort of sling called a sling and swathe, although when seated, I can take it off and type (gently), which means I don't have to go on short-term disability of any sort. I can also pick (carefully) pick up things and shower, shave, etc., as well as find a reasonably comfortable position in which to sleep.
However, I'm probably six weeks away from any return to weightlifting at the gym. More importantly, and even with medical insurance, I face thousands of dollars in ER visit bills and then anything I incur in orthopedic therapy.
As for what happened, below is my version of events.
Upfront, let me say that I am not interested at all in getting into some "he said / he said" of what happened with bartender Aaron Riggins because that is a contest I will lose all the time. He is part of the partnership that runs Trade and friends with those involved. Plus, it's no big secret that I don't have the best relationship with gay bars in our neighborhood.
My Sunday afternoon had been a good one. I had gone out with my friend Aydin earlier over to Martin's Tavern, where we had lunch, and then stopped at Sovereign before taking an Uber back (it was starting to rain at that point). I then we back out -- always the mistake, no? -- walking to No. 9. Yes, I had a couple drinks there before going to Trade.
At both No. 9 and Trade, ex-friend Gary and that Howie character were there. I mention this because I recall them standing by Aaron's well.
At some point -- perhaps around 10 o'clock -- I was talking to two random people in a sort of mock argument over a bar stool. It was not serious, at least as far as I was concerned. I also remember Aaron -- who was standing at the far end of the bar from me -- coming around and suddenly behind me. He said nothing and was pulling me out, my left arm behind my back. At that I point, I pushed him -- reaching up so I pushed him against the cheek.
And you would have done the same thing, too.
He then wrenched my left arm back, dislocating my shoulder and threw me out. The pain was immediate but the really excruciating pain developed by dawn..
Again, jeep in mind, I had said nothing to him and had no interaction with him. He just made some assumption about a situation and immediately got physical with me. To me, this is completely unacceptable and I'm considering filing a police report against Aaron, although, truthfully, I'm not entirely sure what to do at this point.
He can do the same, I don't care. I'm the badly injured party. To be clear, I'm not considering any litigation with Trade, but as far as Aaron goes, I'm not going to be the victim of what was a borderline aggravated assault. I suspect Aaron knew exactly what he was doing -- and took the opportunity to do it.
I've known him as a bar customer for at least 10 years, and for a while considered him something of a friend, which was obviously not the case. More to the point, he clearly has some prejudice against me -- this not being the first time that he has approached me when I was not even near him in that manner of saying nothing and abruptly appearing, saying nothing but clear that he wanted me to leave. (That previous time, there was no physical encounter.)
So, whatever his side / Trade's side is, I'm not just going to suffer an excruciating bodily injury, and as a result of a situation that (1) didn't involve him, (2) wasn't any sort of "bar fight" but instead involved an assumption on his part, and (3) treating me like some criminal in the bar -- not even doing the courtesy of saying something but immediately engaging in a physical altercation with me and going out of his way to injure me.
None of this is OK.
Whether anyone "takes my side" or not is completely irrelevant to me* -- and I'm sure he has Aaron has his own version of events -- but what I've described is how I experienced it. And now I have to a painful and expensive aftermath.
*M. WADE can sit and spin for all I care.
I'm going to try to go into the office for at least a little while tomorrow. I'm still quite tired even though I've been sleeping a lot.
Right now, I'm home watching some MeTV stuff -- an unintentionally funny episode of Charlie's Angels ("Angels Ahoy"). So you never actually see Charlie Townsend -- voiced by the great John Forsythe. Next up, Mama's Family! My window a/c is purring and this tiny dust trap of an apartment is quite cool, although I keep going from feeling hot and flush to shivering, and I don't think its andropause …
OK, I'm signing off for now. Everything is a rather topsy-turvy now including my life schedule.