Yookay…maybe something about doc mentioning the 1970’s…maybe thinking about food…
I parked on PCH and we were walking into the parking lot for one of the two (now defunct) waterside eateries near the point. It was dark and traffic was light and moving right along. The members of our party hear a loud roadside Thunk and then that uncomfortable flat sound of fiberglass skidding along the pavement…just like a surfboard that got tossed. Unfortunately this time a parked car had pulled out and a motocycle with two people hit the car at speed, and what we heard was the sound two people make when they get thrown from a motorcycle and skid along the asphalt as far as their momentum takes them - fortunately wearing good helmets!
A couple of cars had stopped and one had a local fireman. This was long before cell phones and there weren’t many pay phones around this territory either. Another person and I were going up to the restaurant to call it in. A guy came sprinting by, told the valets what had happened, and came trotting back. I asked him direct to make sure the accident was being called in and he responded that yes, it was, and we could hear sirens starting up. I took a look at the guy as we asked how it was going out there: nice slacks, nice shirt, tie…and he had on a white doctor/lab coat and a stethoscope in one of the big patch pockets…and he was covered with blood…just soaking in it from the look under the streetlight.
As he wasn’t in a hurry to get back out there I asked him if he was a doctor. “Oh, no…I’m not. I’m just going to a party.”
Halloween in Malibu!