Interesting things. Things worth writing about. I wait for them constantly, and sometimes - like now - a few of them at a time fall into my lap. Might as well start at the beginning, like normal people do. You know, the boring way.
(Not for the weak-stomached folk.)
Last week at work while I was... working... another associate came in to take out the hazardous waste. He finds me, asks me to clean up a small mess for him, some blood on the floor. The bin beside the blood is open, and he says "you don't want to look in there." Well hello. Obviously he didn't know me. Of course I look. It's a leg. A severed human leg. I was shocked... that my stomach didn't start squirming. I just thought "Oh. That's a leg." and got back to work. Then, soon after, I began wondering if the owner of the leg had an alien insect crawling towards his testicles. "Take the leg!! Take it!!" And a while after that, a play on the old Mike Meyers line, "if it's a severed leg I'm going to be very upset."
Yes, I'm completely aware of how inappropriate and insensitive my response was.
So that was first. The second occurred at the beginning of the shift I just got off of. I was told to go clean up a spill in a certain lobby. I get there, start cleaning. Two cops come in with a guy handcuffed between them. As soon as he's in the lobby this guy starts yelling about police brutality and his rights and all that jazz (I have a feeling he was saving this act for when he was inside, with an audience). And he starts struggling, trying to get free. The two cops hang on the best they can, and end up wrestling the guy to the ground a few feet away from me. As this is happening, I calmly take the scissors and putty knife that's on top of my cart and lock them up inside it. (It's probably reckless and stupid to keep them out like that, but it's convenient.) And then I resume my cleaning. The cops lay on the guy til a few other people - including a security guard that may rival John Coffey in size - come in with a gurney and wheel him off. I finished cleaning, made sure an elderly couple that had witnessed the whole thing were okay, and left.
I really didn't mean for the scissors/putty knife line to be the climax. I'm sure whoever read it thought I did something a lot more serious than lock them up. "Shut up and behave or this 1 & 1/4 inches of flat dull metal will mess you up!" says the 5ft skinny-ish housekeeper.
Right.
Annnd the last thing. Next week I have a doctor's appointment, two hours away. With a plastic surgeon, of all md's. There's a lump on my lower neck/upper back that I'm hoping to get rid of. I thought perhaps it would just require a needle, and be drained, but I guess not. I don't really know what to expect. Anesthesia? A gaping hole after? Something that is better, stronger, faster? Well... okay, if you insist. I won't be able to see it anyway.
(Not for the weak-stomached folk.)
Last week at work while I was... working... another associate came in to take out the hazardous waste. He finds me, asks me to clean up a small mess for him, some blood on the floor. The bin beside the blood is open, and he says "you don't want to look in there." Well hello. Obviously he didn't know me. Of course I look. It's a leg. A severed human leg. I was shocked... that my stomach didn't start squirming. I just thought "Oh. That's a leg." and got back to work. Then, soon after, I began wondering if the owner of the leg had an alien insect crawling towards his testicles. "Take the leg!! Take it!!" And a while after that, a play on the old Mike Meyers line, "if it's a severed leg I'm going to be very upset."
Yes, I'm completely aware of how inappropriate and insensitive my response was.
So that was first. The second occurred at the beginning of the shift I just got off of. I was told to go clean up a spill in a certain lobby. I get there, start cleaning. Two cops come in with a guy handcuffed between them. As soon as he's in the lobby this guy starts yelling about police brutality and his rights and all that jazz (I have a feeling he was saving this act for when he was inside, with an audience). And he starts struggling, trying to get free. The two cops hang on the best they can, and end up wrestling the guy to the ground a few feet away from me. As this is happening, I calmly take the scissors and putty knife that's on top of my cart and lock them up inside it. (It's probably reckless and stupid to keep them out like that, but it's convenient.) And then I resume my cleaning. The cops lay on the guy til a few other people - including a security guard that may rival John Coffey in size - come in with a gurney and wheel him off. I finished cleaning, made sure an elderly couple that had witnessed the whole thing were okay, and left.
I really didn't mean for the scissors/putty knife line to be the climax. I'm sure whoever read it thought I did something a lot more serious than lock them up. "Shut up and behave or this 1 & 1/4 inches of flat dull metal will mess you up!" says the 5ft skinny-ish housekeeper.
Right.
Annnd the last thing. Next week I have a doctor's appointment, two hours away. With a plastic surgeon, of all md's. There's a lump on my lower neck/upper back that I'm hoping to get rid of. I thought perhaps it would just require a needle, and be drained, but I guess not. I don't really know what to expect. Anesthesia? A gaping hole after? Something that is better, stronger, faster? Well... okay, if you insist. I won't be able to see it anyway.
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