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Dear Mr. Bossman:
FIRST NOTIFICATION OF LOSS:
My husband, Jiggs Monroe, cannot be at work today because of his accident last week. In case you haven’t heard, Jiggs was working on the chimney of the Sleaze residence last Friday when all of your other workers went home early. The last guy to leave took his ladder with him and left Jiggs on the roof with no way to get down.
Jiggs is a pretty smart guy. He figured a way to get down by rigging a pulley with an old tar bucket and a rope from the corner of the roof. Jiggsie figured that if he put enough bricks in the bucket so that it weighed more than him then he could climb down the other side of the rope. Pretty smart, huh?
It would have worked too, except when the bucket was full, Jiggs grabbed the free end of the rope and decided to play Tarzan to get down. He swung from the rope. Unfortunately, his weight and motion jerked the bucket off the roof. Since the bucket was heavier than Jiggs, he went up and the bucket went down. It hit him on the left shoulder and he heard something break. (It wasn’t the bucket.) This caused him to let go of the rope.
But he was saved because he had his right leg tangled around in the rope. Again he heard something break. (It wasn’t the rope.) So he hung upside down. When the heavy bucket hit the ground, Jiggs hit the top of the pulley. I think this is when he broke his ankle. The bucket then kind of broke apart and some of the bricks fell out.
Well, now the halffilled bucket was a whole lot lighter and Jiggs was heavier than the bucket, so Jiggs started down and the bucket started up. They kind of met halfway. Jiggs hit the bucket with his right shoulder. Break number four. (Not the bucket.)
Jiggs landed on his head on the pile of bricks. (Remember, he was hanging upside down.) Another crack I think it’s called a fracture (not the bricks, his skull) and the bucket hit the top of the pulley. The bucket broke apart and spilled the rest of the bricks. They fell on Jiggs. A few more cracks (ribs, this time).
Jiggs laid on the pile of bricks for a while and finally untangled his leg from the rope. He thought he was finally safe on the ground. Unfortunately, he forgot about the bucket still hanging overhead entangled with the pulley. When he let go of the rope, the bucket came down. So did the pulley and the support that Jiggs had built for it on the roof. They fell on Jiggs. I think the doctor said crushed testicles, whatever that means.
I think the idea of keeping Dobermans on a construction site to keep trespassers away is a very good idea, but they ought to be on a leash and kept better fed. When the night watchman finally got the dogs off Jiggs, he was minus a few fingers and toes. Oh, we still can’t find his right ear, either.
The one good thing to come from all this is that it turns out that Mr. Sleaze’s neighbor, Jeremiah Lotsabucks, is an attorney. He wasn’t home at the time of Jiggsie’s accident, but after Lotsabucks caught up with the ambulance, he turned out to be such a nice guy. He told me all about workers’ compensation and employer’s liability. He threw in terms like gross negligence and told me all about dogs being allowed to run loose on a jobsite.
Oh, before I forget, a man from OSHA called and was asking questions about safety shoes and hard hats, whatever they are.
Anyway, Jiggs should be out of traction in about six months. I’ll have him call you about getting his job back. Mr. Lotsabucks said something about accommodations under the ADA. Do you know what he means?
Maggie
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