“I was flatwelding on top of a barge,” he said, “when somebody tapped me on the shoulder to let me know it was time for lunch. I started to walk down the ladder but all I could see was that glowing spot and I ended up falling. Broke my hip in five places when I hit the ladder and bounced off the concrete.” He paused, choked up for a second, then roared, “Here’s a crocashit for you! The insurance barely covered anything. It’s an 80/20 plan and they backed out of half of their share! This shipyard’s chartered in the state of Indiana and in Indiana they got the laws so as you can’t sue your employer! You know how much those surgeries cost?! I got pins all in me now. I’ll be paying on it the rest of my life!” He yanked a cigarette from his shirt pocket. He pulled a lighter from his pants pocket and tried unsuccessfully to light the cigarette. “Hell, I couldn’t even fuck my wife for months.” Someone threw him a pack of matches. He lit the cigarette and drew on it. “Here’s another thing: the only lawyer I could afford told me he didn’t even know who I could sue. Not my employer, not the insurance company, not the doctor, not the foreman, not the ladder manufacturer. I guess I could sue one of you or maybe myself.”