You could say I’m a nice girl, most of the time.
Often I find myself in situations in which I consider: I’m either crazy, God has an insanely hilarious sense of humor, or both got combined and we’re all just having hilarity cocktails.
Recently I’ve been pulling this stint where I go work shifts at random hospitals to make some money while I wait for my full-time job to start. This is, one the one hand, genius, and on the other hand, really stressful and it requires gobs of adaptive ability. Naturally I can’t deny it.
Last night I was asked to work in downtown LA at a well-known and very busy hospital. I arrived and got my assignment, got to work, and within a few hours got hungry. I don’t know why, maybe because I’m a Texan, I thought downtown LA would be hoppin’ on Friday night. Just me? Come on. I thought Lady Gaga would be there as soon as I stepped out. Or MIley. Or somebody? Come on Ryan Seacrest, I know you’re up there in your skyrise apartment.
I was told there was a Subway nearby open until 2 am, and that I could walk there if I was, you know, up for it. Meanwhile I’m thinking, okay dude working the ER, I’m wearing a bright flowery scrub top! I look adorable! What on earth makes you think I wouldn’t walk out into the dark shady streets of downtown LA!? How dare you!
He showed me the way and bid me farewell (he was probably thinking….forever) under his breath.
I walked as aware as I could be to Subway, got a foot-long Spicy Italian (no mayonnaise, because it was technically my 4th meal), and saw a nice big black and white LAPD car outside Subway.
Reasoning: I can either walk the longer way back to the front of the ER and get drugs offered to me or I can these somewhat-friendly looking cops if they’ll give a sista a ride.
Me: “Hi…I’m a nurse at Good Sam. I’m scared to walk the long way around to the ER. Can I….ride with you?”
Woman police in passenger seat: “Uh…why are you out here?”
Me: “I was hungry.” (obvious tone, sandwich bag in hand)
WP: “Oh. Yes. Let me open it.”
I got in the back seat. IT WAS DARK. My pupils dilated HARD.
So I got you all hyped up about this but it was only about 3 blocks, and the car smelled like old Funyuns, and all I could hear was nonsense on the walkie-talkie. Sadly the FBI nor the CIA were calling this specific car last night.
There was no indoor handle to open (imagine that), so I had to wait to be escorted out of the vehicle. I felt like a celebrity. There was almost a red carpet, but it was more like a mat leading into the ER entrance. It’ll do for now. We can upgrade later.
I got back to the 8th floor, and in the safety of the nurses’ lounge, the Spicy Italian was perfect.