A long, long time ago, in a galaxy not so very far away…Ok, it was something like 40 years ago, and Doug and I were working Medic 19 on nights. We caught a run on a sick person of some sort, and arrived to find a not-so-very-sick person, in an ill humor.
For some reason, this soul appeared to believe that employing us as a lightning rod of sorts for every missed opportunity, failed hope, crushed dream, and malign bit of luck that had befallen them, would in some manner alleviate their misery. I was not seeing it, but, whatever.
Since Doug was of The African Persuasion, whereas I, myself, was very much of the White Bread Persuasion, well, Ms. Misery, herself melanin enhanced, took him under her metaphorical wing, and expected him to commiserate with her in her plight.
I was driving, and so stood off to the side whilst Doug negotiated with Ms. Misery. He had worked pretty damned hard to get to where he stood, and was, let us say, unsympathetic to those who did not appear to exert themselves even minimally to better their lot. While he attempted to conceal his views from the folks on the street, we had detailed conversations in the firehouse on this, and other, topics.
Eventually, Ms. Misery concluded that the only succor we were about to offer her involved a trip to the ER, where she anticipated spending her evening, with no benefit to her pity party prospects. Therefore she directed us to depart, bidding us (and our mothers) farewell.
Once back in our truck, as Doug completed the run sheet (and I moved us to a neutral corner, several blocks away), I noted our friend’s considerable girth. “Glad she SNR’d herself. Obese as she is, I’d hate to attempt to carry her large self anywhere.”
Doug chuckled. “Obese? Were you there, as she yelled at us? With that attitude, she was Oh-Beast!”