Here's an interesting/horrifying little morality tale via the Portland Police Bureau: Last night at 11:25 pm, 23-year-old James Piles was walking just east of SE Water and Stark, when he was struck by a train, thereby severing the lower part of his left leg. He's expected to survive... but you may be wondering, how exactly does a train sneak up on someone like that? The PPB shares their theory:
When police and medical personnel arrived at the scene, Piles was conscious and was carrying his severed left leg. Piles told police that he'd been smoking marijuana earlier and did not hear the train approaching when he was struck.
NOW, before you call "bullshit" on Piles' excuse, let me relate the following story: Earlier in my lovelife, I dated a stupid, fucking pothead. While I'm not a huge fan of the stuff, I decided to smoke it with her in order to get on level mental playing field (and eventually into her bed). So she invites me to this super fancy after-wedding reception (I don't do well in super fancy situations), and suggests we smoke up first. We do, and by the time we get there, I am so stoned I have gone completely deaf. I'm already insecure enough as it is, and these richy-riches are asking me stuff like, "So Steve, what do you do?" And I'm responding, "WHAT??? CAN YOU PLEASE SPEAK UP, I CAN'T HEAR A FREAKING WORD YOU'RE SAYING!!!"
Moral: Train + marijuana = severed leg (or at the very least, social embarrassment). Learn it. Know it. Live it.