Bass: Why hello Mr. Plate, how are you this glorious morning?
Mr. Plate: I'm great!!! How is your foot?
Bass: Fine, fine... I'm wearing my Nike Frees today...what what?!?! 0_o
Mr. Plate: Whooooopsie1?!?!?!! BOOYAH FUCK YOUR LEFT FOOT BASS!!! FUCK YOUR TOES AND YO SHIN!!!
Bass: That's not nice Mr. Plate, my left shoe is filling up with blood and staining the grey fabric designed to offer less than absolutely zero protection.
Mr. Plate: Yup I'm Metal, not like those pussy plastic covered hex plates. I'm ole school, rusty, and probably covered in disease.
Bass: hangs head, finishes coffee, limps to car at the very last spot in the lot, punches steering wheel, notices blood oozing from shin, thinks I didn't even feel that part, punches wheel again, drives home.
Wife: wha happened?
Bass: Please get Bass ice pack,
Bass: Takes off shoe, grabs pinky pulls straight, no pain, grabs next toe does the same, CRACK, reset toe, tapes toe, grabs toes next to that pulls crack tapes. Takes 2 Tylenol, wishes Bass had advil, ices foot.
Bass: why to wait for them to do the exact same thing, but make bass wait 2 hours for x-ray first, then 2 hours to read said x-ray, then pay co-pay, and pay parking, and leave with a roll of tape? They don't do anything for broken toes.
F.....M.....L I can't win