Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Fencing, ER-Style

Mr. Mumble-de-Gook is incomprehensible. He is one of my regular drunks that I ignore completely because the last time he begged me for a sandwich, he thanked me by eating it, then peeing in the box for me.

Ms. Prissy Regular comes in like clockwork- every week. There is usually nothing wrong with her, but she likes to come in for a nap and a sandwich under the guise of some problem related to her morbid obesity.

Our ER was full to capacity again last night and both of them were put in the same back hallway to await sobriety. The stage was set for disaster because Ms. Regular is spoiled and Mr. Mumble-de-Gook does not ever shut up. I have never understood a word he said except that time I figured out, he was saying "hungry" and gave him the sandwich.

Ms. Regular: Can you please be quiet?
Mr. Mumble-de-Gook: Hrrrrngh! muauambuleaa-aggh.
Mr. Mumble-de-Gook: Arrrm aerrddd nyumm uh huhh errdaastt meehh
Mr. Mumble-de-Good: auyumm aereeedsss miisssto miiiikkk meraamernumer astimurkat
Ms. Regular: What is wrong with you? I'm trying to sleep here.
Mr. Mumble-de-Gook: aghg-mummbrrr orrr ehhhh
Ms. Regular: I don't need to sit here and listen to you all night. You sound retarded.
He stands up and makes a menacing motion.
Ms. Regular: You get any closer I'm gonna clock you with my cane. (She swings it for effect)
Mr. Mumble-de-Gook swings out *his* cane and says the first comprehensible sentence I have ever heard from him: MMRM I'mmmm gonnarr knock mrrr your wigg offf.

There was to be a cane fight as both of them started brandishing the canes in menacingly, but I called security and Mr. MdG was released back onto the street because he was walking as steadily as he ever did. Oh, the joys of sitting...


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