"Nope, I'm good."
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
I kept walking. Speeding up a bit and really forcing my foot. This was an old guy, somewhere towards the age of 50. Looked like an arab too, they're weird in France, I've had too many try and talk to me to get my phone number, coincidently the French never try this.
"Are you under 18?"
And I was just thinking about how much longer this hospital would take me to get too. He followed me for around 500m too. Right up until I crossed the gates.
"Thanks!" I was genuinely saying this.
And this was where I wanted to kill him. But he had friends. Grrr.
"Yeah, I can see you're French. Cunt!"
"Bye bye, vaffanculo, connard de merde."
I got into the hospital after running away from this creep, and I was all like "Hi, I'm dying from my foot pain, can I maybe see someone?" I was left to wait for the worst 15 minutes of my life. There were two homeless people, well one definitely was, the other I think she was because she was dressed weirdly and was a real mess. But the smell! If you're ever in the metro you'll notice it one day, it smells like stale body odour and I don't know what. If you want to smell it Chatelet on the line 4 is a good bet. Actually the line 4 in general seems to be where they all hang.
Whatever. There was nothing much. I waited like half an hour, I was nuked with X-rays, texted my friend telling her it was completely broken, 100% fucked and I'd need a cast for three months, and then left with a sprain and a prescription.
I got the prescription the day after when I couldn't walk any more. I wore the cast and then stopped the painkillers, there's another post on that I guess. Friday coming it'll be two weeks since I fell. I'm still wearing my support but it's fine.
Alexandros broke his foot the Monday before mine. We're pretty good as a family. In his words "Fell, boom." Just like I said, only in 500 more words.