Read previous chapters of the Cubicle Chronicles here, here, here, and here. I keep thinking, any time now people will stop saying stupid things. But I must be wrong. So wrong. So we continue...
Also, today's NHBPM prompt is to write about something funny. This will, hopefully, suffice.
Nurse: What's your reason for coming in [to the Emergency Department] today? Patient: I have acne. Nurse: (waiting...) Um, okay, acne, and what else is going on? Patient: I have acne. Nurse: Okay, so what brought you in today? Patient: Did you hear me? I have acne. Nurse: So...oh. Okay then. Acne.
Lady: Hello, Rebecca? Me: Me? Becky. I mean, can I help you? Lady: Do you know how to french braid? Me: Um... yes? Lady: Great. My hair's kind of damp and I can go get it a little wetter. Can you try to braid my hair? Me: Um, huh? Lady: My son has a show tonight and I want my hair to have the nice wavy thing going on and I never learned how to french braid. So, do you care to do it? Me (looks at her and determines that she appears clean): Um. Ok... (And then I actually did it. Yup, I sure did. But hell, I didn't have anything else to do. Which she could clearly see. And, yes, it was a particular kind of awkward. Not a good call on my part. At all.)
Lady 1: What the hell is that??!!! Lady 2: Oh my...!! L1: Is that really happening??! L2: Apparently it is. L1: No, really? It can't be. L2: It is. Lady 3: Is that...??!!! L1: It is. L3: You're telling me that tow truck, just pulled that ambulance here. With a patient in it?? L2: Apparently yes. L3: So, the tow truck was pulling the ambulance that had a patient in the back. L1: Yeah. Patient care at its best. L3: Well, I'll be damned. (That echos my thoughts exactly. I mean, can you imagine. You're in an ambulance. Because, you know, you, like, need to be in an ambulance to get to the hospital. And then it breaks down. But, instead of, you know, calling a new one, they call a tow truck. And, that is how you get to the hospital. I wonder how insurance will read the bill on that one...)
Lady1: What you doin'? Lady 2: I was doin' nothin'. L1: Don't you lie to me! Was you tryin' to take my cigarettes? (switched to the creepiest, most threatening, yet baby-ish voice) Don't you steal my ciggies. I will kill you. I will cut you. Into tiny, little pieces. I will take you out. Don't you touch them. L2:Um, I didn't go near them. L2 (in a completely normal - for her - voice): Okay, will you go get me a drink from the cafeteria now? (Dude, I can not adequately describe the creepiness of that voice. And then it went all sickly sweet. I am fairly certain she's crazy. Like, totally, off her rocker, effin' crazy. One of us needs meds - her to be less crazy, or me to continue to listen to her non-medicated crazy.)
Today's Lesson: Always look busy at work. Otherwise you could get stuck braiding a stranger's hair. Which is total awkwardness. And makes you feel the need to repeatedly wash your hands.