The Cubicle Chronicles: Chapter Four

Read previous chapters of the Cubicle Chronicles here, here, and here. I keep thinking, surely the fodder for these must come to an end at some point. I have yet to find that point though. So we continue...


(Conversation in process regarding how everyone @ this location always seems to be passing around awful sinus gunk.) Lady 1: I keep expecting to walk in here one morning and see mushrooms sprouting out of the carpet. Lady 2: Oh no, sister. We are the mushrooms. They keep us in the dark and dump shit on us all the time. They cultivate us. We are the mushrooms. (That seems like possibly a valid point.)

Ma'am, do you have any STD's? (pause) Well, yes, ma'am, I did ask if you have any STD's. (pause) Yes, ma'am, I do realize that you're 94 years old. (pause) Is that right, ma'am, you got married when you were 14? (pause) No, ma'am. Pregnancy is not considered an STD. (pause) Yes, even if it happened 18 times. (Um, 18 times?! As much as I'd love to be pregnant, I might be with the old lady on this one.)

Lady 1: Apparently the patient was making passes at the staff at his previous nursing home. Lady 2: Isn't he here for a UTI? Lady 1: Yes. Lady 2 (sarcastically): I've heard UTI's can make you do that. Lady 1: So, they're refusing to take him back there. Lady - loose use of that word - 3 (yells across the room): What room is that man in? I'm a-goin' up there now to get me some action! Then I might just take 'em home with me!  (So, really? I mean, I can't actually think of a response to this. Apparently neither could anyone else as the whole office sat in dead silence for several minutes. Total awkwardness.)

Lady: My kid apparently joined the academic team. I mean, I know my kid. I know all of my kids and it's safe to assume that none of my kids is going to make an academic team based on smarts. They must of just needed bodies in them seats. That and the team must just suck. Bad. Really, I do love my kids, but, and I'm just bein' honest here, they're pretty stupid. (So, do you think that was nature or nurture responsible for that one? Just asking because your use of poor grammar doesn't help me answer that question really.)

(Thanks to speaker phone technology, I was blessed enough to hear both sides of this delightful convo) Lady 1: Amanda, why did you skip school??! A: I didn't! L: I know you did! Why are you lying to me? A: Because I can. L1: Who else is in my house? I don't want nobody in my house! A: Eff you, mother! L1: You think you're so effing bad@ss, but you don't know anything. A: (hang up) (there were 3 more similar rants, then the most fun part started.) L1: Won't nobody help me with her? Lady 2: Have you called the police, or the court? L1: No, I can't do that to my baby. L2: What about one of them psychiatrists? L1: She went 2 times and it didn't do no good! L2: Well, then you gotta call the po-po. L1: But then she'll be mad at me. (several minutes later) L1: It's almost Amanda's birthday. What do you think I should get her? I was thinking an iPhone 5. She has the 4 but says she wants the new one. Also, she lost her iPad. I mean, I think she sold it for drug money. Though she could have gotten that money from doing who knows what with those boys who are always around. But at any rate it's gone so now she needs a new one. (There was so much that is wrong in this convo that I don't know where to start. So let me try to hit the highlights - call the police. Don't buy your kid any new stuff. Drug test her. That seems like a good place to start.)


Today's Lesson: Let's see, here are a few. Pregnancy doesn't officially count as an STD. Don't hit on patients. Don't call your kids stupid. Don't buy your drug-abusing child expensive toys for her to sell for drugs. Oh, and sometimes we apparently are the mushrooms.