l. a. p. d.
I have stories all of a sudden. I can tell the truth about the old timers: the way they drop themselves into the patrol car seats and pull themselves out again by the door frame at each call. The way they can have the script all straight in their heads before we arrive at a scene. All these folks out here deliver their lines, and after a while you become familiar with what they say and how they will say it. The old timers are weighed down by the enormous script they know every nuance of.
"I have a problem, I don't know quite how to approach it. You see, I can't sleep, I'm having a lot of trouble sleeping and I know the difference between when you sleep and wake up but I really can't sleep when I lie down and I think... (lowers his voice a little) I think some people at work are putting drugs in my food."
I knew it. Yes. They probably are. Things come to that, when these sickoes out there aren't satisfied anymore with the levels of sleep depravation a man might suffer because of his paranoia and choose to take things into their own hands, as in this case, slipping dayquil into the poor mans food. These sickoes and clever. And sick.
"I think they may have gotten into my water supply too."
And the poor man's water supply too?
"And they've been inside my apartment. So, I'm just wondering what would be my first step, or how should I approach this whole thing?"
Start taking your meds again. In the meantime you're going to be very crazy still, so "You should go to the doctor and have them take a look at why you can't sleep." taking your craziness to them where a man in a white scrub can tell you what you'll discover to be lies about how actually you're pretty healthy except for some indications of high stress. Then he can watch in amazement as you pull an IV out of your arm and walk out the door with your drafty gown still on because it suddenly became clear to you that the doctor was of course in on it the whole time.
"I don't have a doctor. Should I go the emergency room? I think I should maybe go to the emergency room."
"Sure." I'm sure everything is under control, I guess. Jesus has enough patience. Probably. For the whole gang of us.
In the waiting room.
"I have a problem, I don't know quite how to approach it. You see, I can't sleep, I'm having a lot of trouble sleeping and I know the difference between when you sleep and wake up but I really can't sleep when I lie down and I think... (lowers his voice a little) I think some people at work are putting drugs in my food."
I knew it. Yes. They probably are. Things come to that, when these sickoes out there aren't satisfied anymore with the levels of sleep depravation a man might suffer because of his paranoia and choose to take things into their own hands, as in this case, slipping dayquil into the poor mans food. These sickoes and clever. And sick.
"I think they may have gotten into my water supply too."
And the poor man's water supply too?
"And they've been inside my apartment. So, I'm just wondering what would be my first step, or how should I approach this whole thing?"
Start taking your meds again. In the meantime you're going to be very crazy still, so "You should go to the doctor and have them take a look at why you can't sleep." taking your craziness to them where a man in a white scrub can tell you what you'll discover to be lies about how actually you're pretty healthy except for some indications of high stress. Then he can watch in amazement as you pull an IV out of your arm and walk out the door with your drafty gown still on because it suddenly became clear to you that the doctor was of course in on it the whole time.
"I don't have a doctor. Should I go the emergency room? I think I should maybe go to the emergency room."
"Sure." I'm sure everything is under control, I guess. Jesus has enough patience. Probably. For the whole gang of us.
In the waiting room.
posted by james t nath at 7:49 PM
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