I saw his face.
There was blood all around his lips.
He looked exactly like the Joker.
I began to panic. He looked like the Joker, he muttered like the Joker...
He lifted his hand to his mouth and rubbed his lip. There was blood all over his hand now too. There was blood speckled on his white polo shirt. There was blood dripping on to the elevator floor!
I was terrified. Would I EVER make it to my apartment? Was there a gun in his plastic bag? Was I done for!?
He spoke.
"Sorry, I had 8 teeth pulled today..."
My heart jumped a little. I was going to be okay.
8 teeth????? How can you have 8 teeth pulled?
"I have to have 7 more pulled on monday..."
WHAT?? ouch.
I felt very sad for him. I could tell he was embarrassed and trying to hide the blood that kept dripping out his mouth.
"Need to get some gauss in my mouth"
I was at a loss for words. I felt bad for him. 8 teeth? And I was still slightly scared.
I got off at the third floor and said 'have a nice day'
...... 'have a nice day'????? How can you tell a man who has just had 8 teeth pulled to have a nice day?
I hope he likes oatmeal! :-)
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