Med Shirt

Med Shirt
What color lipstick would go with a fuchsia shirt?

This isn’t the actual shirt but it’s the right color

http://i.buyoly.com/boobies_fuschia_fold_med.jpg

light pink

Vtg 70′s…MAROON & YELLOW…PLAID…DISCO…SHIRT…LONG LAPELS…EX COND…MED $14.99

T-shirt Vintage 80′s Velvasheen Medium $7.00

Vintage Mens Pendleton Red PLAID WOOL HUNTING SHIRT Woolen Mills USA Medium M $20.00

VERY RARE VINTAGE 1940′S WOOL PLAID WESTERN SHIRT MED $114.75

KINGS ROAD polyester vintage med rockabilly shirt 1970s $19.99

50′s Vintage CAMPUS Never Iron Plaid L/S Rockabilly Shirt Medium $19.99

60′s Vintage SEARS Cotton HAWAIIAN Shirt Medium $9.99

VINTAGE GEOMETRIC SHIRT SS GREY POLY PRINT LOUNGE LIZARD SKINNY-FIT – MED $10.95

80′s Vintage OFFSHORE Striped SURFER Polo Shirt Medium $9.99

70′s Vintage ENCINO Striped SURFER Polo Shirt Medium op t&c $9.99

80′s Vintage SANTA FE Trains Railway Museum T Shirt Medium $7.00

Vintage WESTERN PEARL SNAP cowboy shirt MEDIUM $26.99

Vintage WESTERN PEARL SNAP cowboy shirt MEDIUM $26.99

Vintage Montgomery Ward Button Up Casual Shirt Hipster Mod Mens Medium $12.99

vintage JC PENNEY PAJAMA OUTFIT SET Shirt Pants Blue PAISLEY TRIM Mens MEDIUM $29.99

Lot – 3 vintage western snap shirts Medium – plaid rockabilly $15.99

1986 Heartbeats For Life vintage t shirt medium Screen Stars $5.99

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1980 Inter AC Olympic Swimming Champs t shirt medium $5.99

Vintage 80s Mens TRASHED BLUER COLLAR WORK SHIRT MEDIUM $29.00

AMAZING Vtg 90s LAS VEGAS T-Shirt **ELECTRONIC- LIGHTS UP** Gambling SLOT Medium $9.75

1970s Mens Short Sleeved Tribal Hippie Geek Shirt by Carlton CA MEDIUM – LARGE $0.99

*ELY CATTLEMAN* VTG MEDIUM WESTERN SHIRT STRIPE EMO greaser rocker punk dress $14.99

vtg 70′s CHUTE #1 WESTERN SHIRT Pearl Snap Floral YOKE Brown MEDIUM $29.99

vtg mens BUD BERMA SHIRT Longsleeve Red Plaid Box Cut 70′s 80′s MEDIUM $24.99

VTG 70s 80s Fila Bjorn Borg Cotton Tennis Shirts Small Medium US:40 GB:38 I:50 $38.00

Vtg Men’s Hawaiian Shirt Cotton Barkcloth Mod Brown/Gold/White Size Medium $7.99

Vintage 1960′s 70′s Abstract Pattern Cotton Big Collar Party Shirt Groovy Medium $40.94

Vintage 1970s Blue Snap Bib Western Shirt by Miller Size Medium Large $23.00

SUN SURF JAPAN HAWAIIAN SHIRT MEDIUM “TOGETSU BRIDGE” $118.00

SUN SURF JAPAN HAWAIIAN SHIRT MEDIUM “TOGETSU BRIDGE” $118.00

VINTAGE Mens Corsican London Bridge Shirt Medium Large Blue & White Short Sleeve $32.31

VINTAGE Mens Crestknit Crimplene Shirt Indie Grandad M L Med Large Olive Green $32.31

VINTAGE Mens Hathaway of America Picture Shirt Grandpa Indie Small Medium S M $32.31

SUN SURF JAPANESE HAWAIIAN SHIRT MEDIUM “ROYAL FLOWER” $118.00

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NYC Cop Marc Morales: H1N1 In NYC

After a whole shift riding that damn patrol car, I decided to walk -to keep the circulation flowing on my numb legs- from the Precinct to the Blues Bar & Grill, on Second Avenue.

Not only was the joint packed, but noisy as hell. It smelled of burnt chicken wings.

Not having much to do this glorious (high up in the 70s), Friday-afternoon, I told Saleem, the bartender, to run me a tab. I was on my third beer chaser when a huge guy -who was being loud and obnoxious- at the end of the bar all of a sudden keeled over.

Pandemonium broke. Then Silence engulfed the joint. The two fellows shooting pool and a waitress kneeled down to assist the two-hundred-fifty pounder.

Indeed the place got silent in a New York minute, but not for long.

A shrill female voice sounded off: “Swine flu!”

“Swine flu!” the parishioners echoed like a church choir.

Panic ensued. Even the guys that were helping the poor soul ran out the door. You should have seen them running in all different directions, scurrying about like roaches when you turn on the light. Of course this made me angry: recalling my ethics training at the Academy, the thought depraved indifference flashed through my mind. Could even be reckless manslaughter, I concluded.

Yo, man-not right to abandon a helpless human being.

Never dealt with “Swine flu” before, and I know it kills people, but even knowing this I got down and tried to revive the big guy. His pulse was strong. Heartbeat loud and booming. When I opened his shirt I saw the medal that diabetic people wear.

Without wasting a second I yelled to Saleem to pour a glass of orange juice. I pried the man’s jaws open; not an easy task because the 250-pound gorilla had his jaws locked tighter than a bear trap. I stuck my cell phone between his teeth and then I poured some of that Tropicana yellow liquid down his gullet.

“Fix another glass, Saleem!” I screamed. “Load it with sugar-right quick. And call 911!”

The second glass went in easy enough, just like pouring oil in a funnel. This is one sad case when I really agree with “water boarding.” Or rather: OJ boarding -not OJ Simpson, mind me- but orange juice boarding.

Like stars twinkling in the night, the man’s eyelids twitched and fluttered, opening and closing, and as he sat up, he spat out the damn cell phone. He looked confused. Of course, he’d left teeth marks on the metal casing of my cell phone, and I marveled that he hadn’t chipped a tooth-the dummy! So strong was his bite that I could barely flip open the gadget.

By the time the paramedics arrived the big fellow was up and about, a little spaced out, White Shirt stained yellow, lips and gums bruised, but okay.

The senior paramedic recognized the man right away and exclaimed,

“Oh, him! Man gets loaded allatime and denn he feggets his med-ee-kayshion.” Though I was born and raised in New York City -El Barrio- I can never get used to that Brooklyn accent.

“What’s this thing about swine flu,” I asked the Brooklyn-language-mangler paramedic.

“Oh, yeah, da ting it’s traveling: from Mexico to Don Diego. Couldda come to New Yoik, already–Queens I heah.”

“You mean San Diego,” I said to check if I had calibrated his meaning well.

“Das wattaised.”

“Thank God,” I said and left mumbling to myself, “damn plague still out there in the boondocks- the Bronx and Queens are foreign territories to me. Manhattan is my beat, and to be more precise: East of Tiffany’s.

“Hey, Marc,” I heard Saleem call. “Good job, man. Next time I’ll give you two on the house.”

My man Saleem kills me.

Saleem must be the only bartender in New York City who doesn’t drink liquor and will give you one on the house only if your tab shows you’ve downed five drinks. The owner of the joint loves him. Can never figure out how Saleem can mix the best drinks in town since he has the faintest idea how they taste.

I’m off duty, so I won’t collect OT pay for my good Samaritan work helping old Twinkle-Toes, but I feel good about being a cop in New York City -East of Tiffany’s, my beat.

So, let me go to McAnn’s on 1st Avenue, to cultivate the Irish garden; if you know what I mean, where all the bartenders, waiters, and waitresses, and even busboys-they all drink. The moment they start singing “Danny Boy,” and people star moving from glen to glen, I take that as my clue to leave.

I wonder when the Precinct will get us them swine-flu hots?

About the Author

Retired. Former investment banker, Columbia University-educated, Vietnam Vet (67-68).
For the writing techniques I use, see Mary Duffy’s e-book: Sentence Openers.
To read my book reviews of the Classics visit my blog: Writing To Live