Ian. (ian_pensky) wrote in utr_logs, @ 2008-01-30 22:10:00 |
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Entry tags: | gabe crystal, harley james, ian pensky, tom crystal |
Who Ian, Gabe, Tom and Harley
What Ian has been FOUND! Alive, no less!
Where Kent Memorial
When Just now, actually. Wednesday evening
Warnings Mention of muggage.
Ian was sore. Tired, bored and anxious as well, but mainly sore. He had just been brought in, he thought, but it felt like he had been there for five hours, waiting around on his bed. He kept on drifting in and out, hoping T would eventually get his ass in there. He hoped it was Gabe he was talking to earlier or he really confused some other random doctor. Oh well.
He had gotten home that night when he had been drinking with Tom fine, and the next morning he had hauled his ass out of bed to go down to the store for some groceries, including dog food, so he left Suzie Q at Tom's, planning to get her when he got back. Wallet, keys and cell in his pockets, Ian headed out, whistling to himself and in a generally good mood.
When he got to the store, he found himself in the produce section with a beautiful woman, as it always happens in the produce section, and he began flirting with her (pick up lines were ten times more fun with visual aids like bananas). They hit it off great, he figured, and ended up spending the whole trip chatting and the like. When it was time to check out, he was behind her, and even holding her bags for her. She said she only lived around the corner and Ian was not the sort to turn down a pretty woman or make her carry her own groceries.
It was more like three blocks, but he was okay with that. What he was not okay with was when they got to her apartment, and he had his shirt off, a large man came in, yelling for him to get off his girlfriend. Well. Going to make a break for it, his cell dropped out of his coat and that was only the beginning of his problems. The boyfriend caught up, his friends caught up, and Ian was not in any shape to call anyone anyway, even if he did have his cell.
"Gaaabe?" He whined out from his hospital bed, shifting, his broken arm itching, "G? Where's T?"
Tom was actually just entering the visitors area, looking around for Gabe or the room number he had gave, whichever one coming first fine with Tom. He glanced over his shoulder at Harley with a frown, "Sorry for dragging you down here," He mumbled as they walked along the hall, Tom's eyes on the numbers.