Minchin Monday and EMTs

So one of our local EMTs is my publisher’s father-in-law. He’s been at the last couple of emergency type things I’ve been at .

Today, I went to what came over the scanner as a “rollover” and turned out to be an ATV accident. Pretty standard, except that when I got there, there was no vehicle.

Usually a rolled-over vehicle is pretty…shall we say…obvious? Not to mention attended by a much larger crowd of onlookers (there were only a couple, across the street from the scene) and more than two cops. Two ambulances had shown up to the scene, which was Hamilton Road in Garland.

A former reporter, Kiley, got me fucking capital-A addicted to Hamilton, so in other news I was going full on The Voice on “You’ll Be Back” when I rolled up.

Got to meet Trooper Zeybel for the first time. Heard his name and seen it on several releases. Now I have a face to go with it.

Of course, I’m that chick from the show Trial & Error who can’t recognize faces, but it’s good. It’s fine.

We’re all fine.

Scenes of accidents have the potential to be horrific but for the most part they’re generally pretty cut-and-dried. The police rarely ever talk or give us much more information than we can put in a caption, but that’s because they’re still investigating the scene until hours later.

We’re mainly there for photos and caption material.

I got a couple sweet shots today. I love getting good candid shots at scenes. Fires, accidents, whatever. The atmosphere lends itself to nice people-in-action shots, and because it takes a really special person to want to be an EMT or a firefighter or the like, these people are always looking super authentic and photogenic. It’s nice when the scene allows for these kinds of shots to be taken.

And, because I kind of forgot that it’s Monday because work tonight is like Sunday (two people in the office, occasionally an editor, and absolutely jack and shit going on anywhere else), here’s your Minchin Monday treat, my babies:

Love watching Timothy harass late night hosts the world over.

There really is nothing like a homeless-looking Australian/Brit in a vest playing the piano and singing about bigamy.

I mean, really. Isn’t that kind of the ultimate turn on?

No?

Just me?

Liars.

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