reading and watching “classic” books and films is such an interesting experience because, before you get into them, when you only know them by name and maybe the vaguest plot outline, they’re intimidating and stuffy and up on a pedestal, but then you finally take the leap and check them out and realize that almost every story that’s achieved such a legendary level of popularity did so because something in its emotional core reached out and grabbed a lot of people by the throat and you are NOT immune.
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Danny just wanted to have fun with his friends, not wake up to vicious pounding on his hotel door, sprawled on the floor, with an unconscious and bloodied Wayne boy in the bathtub.
What Danny doesn't remember is that said Wayne boy asked him for assistance after getting drugged at a gala, and Drunk Danny agreed.
So now there's paparazzi photos of said Wayne boy staggering away from the gala, clearly under the influence of something, while leaning on Danny, who is taking his new bestie to his hotel room to sleep it off.
What Danny doesn't remember is that said Wayne boy tried to go to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face, lost his balance, and slammed his face into the sink before staggering backwards and tripping into the bathtub.
All that Danny knows within five minutes of waking up is that Bruce Wayne, infamous ditz and playboy extraordinaire, looks fucking terrifying when he thinks one of his sons has been attacked.
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so one time i got bit by a brown recluse which is one of the only types of spider in my area that's actually dangerous and at first i didn't know what had happened to me, only that it was nasty. the swelling wasn't going down and the wound started to get ugly. i don't want to like get into the details because that's gross but it got to the point 2 weeks later that i was worried enough to go to the doctor, which i hate doing.
i am not afraid of spiders but other people are so i'd been covering it with this big ole square bandage (i needed more landscape coverage than a simple bandaid) and sat in the university medical waiting room, kicking my heels and playing BOTW. the nurse who admitted me was like, oh, we have got to get Tom to cover this one. she wrote spider bite under my ticket.
i waited in the near-empty building for like an hour and then nurse tom shows up in spiderman scrubs, out of breath. "sorry," he says, "i saw - your slip - and I had," he heaves in a breath, "to run home and. get. these scrubs. i literally. ran. felt like a job. for. spiderman."
i laugh. he puts his hands on his knees, thumbs-ups at me. fishes a pamphlet out from under his clipboard that basically says spiders can be scary but you don't need to be scared, there's very few dangerous spiders in new england. "honestly," he wheezes, "we probably don't need to get you into an exam room. just..." he waves his hand at the pamphlet, "read that."
i look down at my arm. then back at him in his scrubs. and then down at my arm. i like that he made an effort to make a joke, but now it does not feel like a good joke, because they are mistaking my calm for a lack of injury. "can i. like. at least show you the bite?"
he gives me kind of a weird look, which is fair, but then says. "if. i mean, if you have to."
i peel the bandage off. his face goes green.
"oh," he says.
"yeah, man."
"a... spider bit you?" his voice is high and tight and trembling. he backs up a few steps.
"i think a brown recluse," i offer. "i know it's nasty, sorry."
"excuse me for a moment." he looks over to the administering nurse on the other side of the small room. "i need to find someone else to take care of you."
the administering nurse smiles over to us with a degree of pleasure that is almost salivating. for a moment, like a window opening, i am briefly aware of what must be a psychic message floating amongst the in-between. her jaguar teeth all say this is like a party for me and i know exactly what i'm doing.
"oh no, tom," she says, grinning. "i gave her to you specifically."
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