By: Bud Alexis
When living in Ridgecrest, La, I had to take my daughter and son to piano lessons in Natchez, Ms. When I reached Vidalia, I had to get gas, and in the process the gas belched out of the tank and covered my front side, waist to knees. I made the choice of getting the kids to their lessons at the Pentecostal church, on the North side of Natchez, a considerable drive. By the time I got there, I was being chemically burned big time. Upon arriving, I ran for the restroom, which was dark inside. I couldn’t find the light switch, so I extended both arm out in front of me feeling my way in. As the days luck would have it, the stall door was open and went right between my outstretched arms, and boom, it struck me right in the eye, opening up a big gash, and knocking me for a loop. Stumbling out of the restroom, someone on the outside pointed out that the light switch was on the outside of the room. Not so good idea. Burning, hurting, and bleeding now, I took my clothes off and bathed in the sink, to cool me down, while putting hand towels on my bleeding eyebrow, that would need about four stiches to close. Standing there, half naked, my pants and shorts soaked in gas, what do I do. Finally my son, Bryan found me and I sent him to find the pastor, tell him what happened and borrow a pair of pants. I got the pants, about size 30, me being about a 38. I put them on anyway and what a sight. What you can imagine is about right. I made my way quickly to the car and then home to nurse my wounds and pride. Glad I didn’t have to change a flat on the way home.
