BUGHOUSE TALES #2
SEARCHING FOR DAN'S EYE
I was making my first round on the unit when Dan (the one eyed Indian) approached me. You never knew what shit he was going to babble and I was getting ready to blow him off since I had more pressing things to attend to.
"I want to get my eye back!" He blurted out as he walked up to me.
"What the fuck are you talking about, Dan?" I responded. "I don't think you're eligible for an eye transplant." Hell, I didn't even know if there are such things as an eye transplant - other than the Tom Cruise flick Minority Report , I had given the matter zero thought.
And even if it was possible I seriously doubted that an incarcerated inmate in the Minnesota Security Hospital would be considered for such a complex surgery. Especially since he had gouged his own eye out!
"Have you ever been to Duluth?" He asked.
Shit, this conversation was going nowhere.
"Yes, Dan. I used to live in Duluth." My mind was wandering to my first morning cup of coffee and if there was a chocolate doughnut still left in the Dunkin' Donuts box in the security bubble.
"Do you know where Last Place On Earth is."
"You mean the head shop on Superior Street? Of course." Last Place was probably the most famous head shop in Northern Minnesota.
"I pawned my glass eye right across the street from there."
Shit! There was a pawn shop right across the street from there. This conversation was starting to get interesting even though it was all probably delusional bullshit on his part.
I looked at my watch, it was only 0630 in the morning. "I tell you what, Dan. They probably don't open until around 10, I'll give them a call then and see if they still have it." It'd give me something fun to do.
Without another word, he wandered over to the breakfast cart to get another cup of defaf - caffeine was a prohibited substance since it interfered with the cocktail of medications all the patients were on. The conversation over, he probably had more pressing matters to attend to, one of which wasn't taking a shower. Dan had a constant horrible and pungent odor and I was always having to field complaints about Dan not bathing or washing his clothes.
Promptly at 10 I called information and got the phone number for the pawn shop.
To my astonishment the guy who answered the phone knew immediately what I was talking about. "Yea! This crazy fucking Indian came in and pawned it for 25 bucks. I have it here on the counter for a conversation piece. Man, that motherfucker was drunk as hell! He had a bottle of Thunderbird in his jacket pocket."
I told him that the eye was state property and I'd have Dan's social worker give him a call about cutting him a check.
When his social worker called, he told her he didn't really give a shit if it was state property or not. He was running a business and he wanted 50 bucks for it! They finally negotiated it down to $40 and he'd pay for shipping.
When the eye showed up, Dan promptly popped it in and strutted around the unit like a cocky rooster, showing his eyeball off to both staff and patients.
I didn't know that you had to lube up the eye with some Vaseline or some other lubricant or your eyelid would stick to it, which of course, Dan totally ignored. So his eyelid was always stuck in the half blink position.
On top of it, the state looked like they had cheaply bought the fucking thing from a taxidermist. It looked like the glass eye that you'd use when you mounted a deer head.
The overall effect was hideous!
But totally appropriate for the atmosphere.
No comments:
Post a Comment