Overheard On The Bolance

Gas station clerk: “He’s drunk, and trespassing. When I asked him to leave, he made like he was going to sit on one of the concrete pump barriers, pretended to fall off of it, and now he won’t stop screaming.”

AD: “What’s your name, sir?”

Patient:“AAAUGH! AAAARGH! WOOOO! GAWD HAVE MERCY!”

AD: “Luther, is that you?”

Patient (nodding) “WAAUGH! LAWDY JESUS HAVE MERCY, I’M DYIN’! AAARGH, THE PAIN!”

AD: “Howdy, Luther, long time no see. Didn’t recognize you with the beard. Where you hurtin’?”

Patient: “WAAUGH, MY HIP! AARGH, THE HEARTBREAK OF PSORIASIS! LAWDY JESUS LAWDY JESUS LAWDY JESUS!”

AD (taking him gently by the arm): “Let’s get you on the stretcher and on the way to the hospital, Luther.”

Patient (angrily pulling away): “DON’T FUCKIN’ TOUCH ME! AAAUUGH!”

AD (tiredly): “Okay, Luther, your choice. Get on the stretcher if you want to go to the hospital. You’ve got ten seconds, and then we put you on the stretcher.”

Patient: “OOOHH, THE HUGE MANATEE!”

Cop (losing patience): “Buddy, you either get your ass on that stretcher right now, or I’ll put you on it myself, and I promise I won’t be as gentle as these guys.”

Patient (complying, with no evidence of limp or inability to bear weight): “WAAUGH, THE AGONY!”

AD (to partner, before closing the rear doors): “Luther T. Malingerer, 1125 Fydalla Ho Expressway, DOB 4-1-1955, history of alcoholism, hypertension, and status dramaticus.”

Cop (wryly): “Frequent flier?”

AD: “Actually, I haven’t seen him in three years. Used to live with a 18-year-old prostitute, get drunk and mad at her, and punch the wall. Must have broken his hand about twenty times. I only recognized him by the way he carries on.”

Cop: “When you can recognize your patients by the way they scream…”

AD (sighing): “… it’s time for a change of scenery. Or a change of patients.”