"Hey."
"Hey, what? Are you implying something?"
Wait, backtrack a little. I wake up this morning exactly three minutes before I am supposed to be at work. Good thing I have superhuman powers, or I would have been late.
Okay, so maybe I'm a little late. Ten minutes, that's it.
Well, maybe Fifteen. And that's really not that late. I didn't even have time to do my hair.
So, as I race through the doors of the hospital, I see the Janitor. And apparently I have developed a taste for torture, because I decide to acknowledge him. In a friendly matter. No sarcasm. I swear. And still with the accusations.
So, back to our riveting conversation.
"Uh.no, just 'hey'" I give my friendliest grimace.
"Really? Because I could have sworn you were implying something."
"Nope."
"Because if you were implying something, I will find out." He squints at me sideways.
" 'Kay." I race off before he can block my way. Note to self: stay away from him today. He seems more paranoid than usual. Maybe off his meds?
I make it to the desk from the doors in record time, panting, and find Carla looking over a chart.
"Hey, Carla."
"Hey Bambi." She looks up and starts. "What's with the hair. Did you stick your finger in a socket this morning?"
"It's a new trend, 'bedhead' All the cool guys are doing it."
"Uh.huh."
"Really. They are."
"OK, Bambi. Anyway, watch out for Kelso. He's on the warpath."
"Kelso? That senile old." I watch a look of horror spread over Carla's face. She draws her finger across her neck.
Oh God.
No.
He did not just walk around the corner and hear me say that. That would be too predictable.
Too typical.
Too cliché.
I turn to find.Dr. Kelso. Smiling. Malicious bastard.
"Dr. Dorian, how nice of you to join us this morning."
"Oh, hey Dr. Kelso. I didn't hear you come up behind me there." I paste on a shit-eating grin.
"No? You could have fooled me."
"Fool you, sir? Never!"
"Kindly remove your lips from my ass, Dr. Dorian."
"Yes, sir."
"Now, since you decided to show up last today, all of the good patients are gone." He grabs two charts from the general clutter of the desk. "So, sport, what'll it be? The triplets with projectile vomiting in exam two? Or the drunk high-school baton twirler in four?"
I stare at him in mute dread, not liking where this is going.
"Do you want to know where the baton is?"
I shake my head slightly, really not liking where this is going.
He drops the chart into my waiting hands.
"Well, you're going to find out. Enjoy."
I sigh and nod, heading for exam four. I only make it a few steps.
"Oh, Dr. Dorian?" I turn to see a huge grin on Kelso's face. "Have a nice day." He disappears around a corner.
If only I could shoot lasers out of my eyes.
***********
Seven horrible hours later. One hour left of my shift. All I want is to go home and be alone. By myself.
I found out where the baton was. You don't want to know. Really.
And the day really hasn't improved since then.
I'm walking down the hallway, when who comes around the corner but my good friend the Janitor.
No way in hell. Not happening.
I make an about-face, only to be confronted with another potential calamity. Here comes Dr. Cox, and he looks rather not happy. Rather really not happy. In fact, I can see the big ol' vein in his forehead pulsing dangerously from twenty feet away.
Oh god.
I duck into the door onto my right. A washroom. The men's room, as luck would have it. I walk over to the sink and lean over it, heaving a sigh of relief.
But then the door opens, and in comes Dr. Cox, and he looks righteously pissed.
"Why are you following me?!" I blurt out. I really couldn't help myself. Really.
He stops dead in his tracks, so fast that his shoes squeak on the tile floor. God, am I in for it.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Jenny. I was under the impression that this was a public bathroom. But apparently, while I wasn't looking someone made it into your own private little kingdom. Is that right?"
"No, b."
"And, silly old me, I just thought that maybe I would be permitted to come in here and wash my hands. You see, some little ankle biter with a cold or the flu or the bubonic plague or whatever decided that my hands here" he held them up, palms towards me, "would be the absolutely perfect place to blow his cute little button nose. And I thought that maybe, if it's okay with you of course, I could wash them off before I went down to the cafeteria to eat whatever they're passing off as food today. So, what do you say? Can I? Pretty please?"
By now I'm blushing and feeling like a complete idiot. I move out of the way and gesture towards the sink, "Be my guest."
He mock-curtseys in my general direction and moves to wash his hands while I watch him from behind.
"Is there some reason that me washing my hands warrants such rapt fascination from you, Carol?"
I jump and stutter something unintelligible out and he shrugs indifferently and moves to grab some paper towel.
"Are you going to hide in here for the rest of your shift?"
"Maybe."
"Well, good luck with that." He moves for the door, but suddenly I am desperate for someone to talk to.
"I'm just having a really bad day."
He turns back and looks at me.
"Why are you telling me this? If you want me to be your shrink, you're going to have to start paying me five hundred an hour."
"I just though..."
"Well, you thought wrong. I have better things to do than listening to you and your little peon friends whine about the mundane details of your vapid little lives."
I'm staring at the floor and my throat is beginning to ache.
"And now you're going to cry because I'm just a big meanie, and I don't understand how hard you have it and etcetera etcetera etcetera. Well, boo- hoo." He pretends to rub his eyes.
I can't help it. The first tears slide down my face, slipping off the end of my chin.Drip drip.
He is quiet for a minute, and I look up at him. He is staring back at me with disbelief.
"Are you actually crying? God, this is a first" He cocks his head to one side, "Dorian, not even Nervous Guy actually cries. Nervous Guy! He's a walking brain aneurysm, for God's sake!"
"I'm sorry, Dr. Cox." I scrub at my eyes."I...wait, what did you just call me?"
"I don't know."
"You just called me 'Dorian'."
"Dorian is a girl's name."
"Dorian is my name!"
"Exactly." He stares at me, with something that might be construed as concern in his face.
"Have you stopped...uh...leaking yet?"
"I got it under control." I am so lying.
"My, isn't this awkward?" He clears his throat. "I'll make you a deal. I will do whatever it takes to get out of here in the shortest time possible."
"All I really need is a hug."
"Hell no."
"Please?"
He sighs and rolls his eyes, "Fine." He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Just let me brace myself."
Finally a nod from him, and he steps forward to wrap his arms around my shoulders ineptly. I snug my arms around his hips.
We stand like this for a minute, and suddenly I get a notion in my head. I have no idea where it comes from. But there it is.
I twist my neck so I can press my lips to his, and to my surprise, he is rather receptive.
The kiss is short, but rather engaging, if I do say so myself.
As we separate, I keep my eyes on his. His cheeks are the primary red of kindergarten finger-paint. His eyes look a bit...crazed.
"If you ever tell anyone about this, I swear they'll never find your body."
"Yeah." I can't keep the endearing grin from spreading over my face.
"Yeah." He snorts and smiles despite himself, shaking his head as he turns to leave. The door doesn't even have a chance to swing behind him as he leaves. The Janitor appears in the doorway, as if by magic.
"Hey." He winks at me.
"Are you implying something?" I squeak.
"I'm not not implying something."
"Were you listening this whole time?"
"I wasn't not listening."
Crap. Double super crap.How to get out of this sticky situation?
Ah yes.
"BANANA HAMMOCK!" I shout, rather too loudly, as I duck under his arm and careen down the hall. ********
The end. Mrow.
"Hey, what? Are you implying something?"
Wait, backtrack a little. I wake up this morning exactly three minutes before I am supposed to be at work. Good thing I have superhuman powers, or I would have been late.
Okay, so maybe I'm a little late. Ten minutes, that's it.
Well, maybe Fifteen. And that's really not that late. I didn't even have time to do my hair.
So, as I race through the doors of the hospital, I see the Janitor. And apparently I have developed a taste for torture, because I decide to acknowledge him. In a friendly matter. No sarcasm. I swear. And still with the accusations.
So, back to our riveting conversation.
"Uh.no, just 'hey'" I give my friendliest grimace.
"Really? Because I could have sworn you were implying something."
"Nope."
"Because if you were implying something, I will find out." He squints at me sideways.
" 'Kay." I race off before he can block my way. Note to self: stay away from him today. He seems more paranoid than usual. Maybe off his meds?
I make it to the desk from the doors in record time, panting, and find Carla looking over a chart.
"Hey, Carla."
"Hey Bambi." She looks up and starts. "What's with the hair. Did you stick your finger in a socket this morning?"
"It's a new trend, 'bedhead' All the cool guys are doing it."
"Uh.huh."
"Really. They are."
"OK, Bambi. Anyway, watch out for Kelso. He's on the warpath."
"Kelso? That senile old." I watch a look of horror spread over Carla's face. She draws her finger across her neck.
Oh God.
No.
He did not just walk around the corner and hear me say that. That would be too predictable.
Too typical.
Too cliché.
I turn to find.Dr. Kelso. Smiling. Malicious bastard.
"Dr. Dorian, how nice of you to join us this morning."
"Oh, hey Dr. Kelso. I didn't hear you come up behind me there." I paste on a shit-eating grin.
"No? You could have fooled me."
"Fool you, sir? Never!"
"Kindly remove your lips from my ass, Dr. Dorian."
"Yes, sir."
"Now, since you decided to show up last today, all of the good patients are gone." He grabs two charts from the general clutter of the desk. "So, sport, what'll it be? The triplets with projectile vomiting in exam two? Or the drunk high-school baton twirler in four?"
I stare at him in mute dread, not liking where this is going.
"Do you want to know where the baton is?"
I shake my head slightly, really not liking where this is going.
He drops the chart into my waiting hands.
"Well, you're going to find out. Enjoy."
I sigh and nod, heading for exam four. I only make it a few steps.
"Oh, Dr. Dorian?" I turn to see a huge grin on Kelso's face. "Have a nice day." He disappears around a corner.
If only I could shoot lasers out of my eyes.
***********
Seven horrible hours later. One hour left of my shift. All I want is to go home and be alone. By myself.
I found out where the baton was. You don't want to know. Really.
And the day really hasn't improved since then.
I'm walking down the hallway, when who comes around the corner but my good friend the Janitor.
No way in hell. Not happening.
I make an about-face, only to be confronted with another potential calamity. Here comes Dr. Cox, and he looks rather not happy. Rather really not happy. In fact, I can see the big ol' vein in his forehead pulsing dangerously from twenty feet away.
Oh god.
I duck into the door onto my right. A washroom. The men's room, as luck would have it. I walk over to the sink and lean over it, heaving a sigh of relief.
But then the door opens, and in comes Dr. Cox, and he looks righteously pissed.
"Why are you following me?!" I blurt out. I really couldn't help myself. Really.
He stops dead in his tracks, so fast that his shoes squeak on the tile floor. God, am I in for it.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Jenny. I was under the impression that this was a public bathroom. But apparently, while I wasn't looking someone made it into your own private little kingdom. Is that right?"
"No, b."
"And, silly old me, I just thought that maybe I would be permitted to come in here and wash my hands. You see, some little ankle biter with a cold or the flu or the bubonic plague or whatever decided that my hands here" he held them up, palms towards me, "would be the absolutely perfect place to blow his cute little button nose. And I thought that maybe, if it's okay with you of course, I could wash them off before I went down to the cafeteria to eat whatever they're passing off as food today. So, what do you say? Can I? Pretty please?"
By now I'm blushing and feeling like a complete idiot. I move out of the way and gesture towards the sink, "Be my guest."
He mock-curtseys in my general direction and moves to wash his hands while I watch him from behind.
"Is there some reason that me washing my hands warrants such rapt fascination from you, Carol?"
I jump and stutter something unintelligible out and he shrugs indifferently and moves to grab some paper towel.
"Are you going to hide in here for the rest of your shift?"
"Maybe."
"Well, good luck with that." He moves for the door, but suddenly I am desperate for someone to talk to.
"I'm just having a really bad day."
He turns back and looks at me.
"Why are you telling me this? If you want me to be your shrink, you're going to have to start paying me five hundred an hour."
"I just though..."
"Well, you thought wrong. I have better things to do than listening to you and your little peon friends whine about the mundane details of your vapid little lives."
I'm staring at the floor and my throat is beginning to ache.
"And now you're going to cry because I'm just a big meanie, and I don't understand how hard you have it and etcetera etcetera etcetera. Well, boo- hoo." He pretends to rub his eyes.
I can't help it. The first tears slide down my face, slipping off the end of my chin.Drip drip.
He is quiet for a minute, and I look up at him. He is staring back at me with disbelief.
"Are you actually crying? God, this is a first" He cocks his head to one side, "Dorian, not even Nervous Guy actually cries. Nervous Guy! He's a walking brain aneurysm, for God's sake!"
"I'm sorry, Dr. Cox." I scrub at my eyes."I...wait, what did you just call me?"
"I don't know."
"You just called me 'Dorian'."
"Dorian is a girl's name."
"Dorian is my name!"
"Exactly." He stares at me, with something that might be construed as concern in his face.
"Have you stopped...uh...leaking yet?"
"I got it under control." I am so lying.
"My, isn't this awkward?" He clears his throat. "I'll make you a deal. I will do whatever it takes to get out of here in the shortest time possible."
"All I really need is a hug."
"Hell no."
"Please?"
He sighs and rolls his eyes, "Fine." He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Just let me brace myself."
Finally a nod from him, and he steps forward to wrap his arms around my shoulders ineptly. I snug my arms around his hips.
We stand like this for a minute, and suddenly I get a notion in my head. I have no idea where it comes from. But there it is.
I twist my neck so I can press my lips to his, and to my surprise, he is rather receptive.
The kiss is short, but rather engaging, if I do say so myself.
As we separate, I keep my eyes on his. His cheeks are the primary red of kindergarten finger-paint. His eyes look a bit...crazed.
"If you ever tell anyone about this, I swear they'll never find your body."
"Yeah." I can't keep the endearing grin from spreading over my face.
"Yeah." He snorts and smiles despite himself, shaking his head as he turns to leave. The door doesn't even have a chance to swing behind him as he leaves. The Janitor appears in the doorway, as if by magic.
"Hey." He winks at me.
"Are you implying something?" I squeak.
"I'm not not implying something."
"Were you listening this whole time?"
"I wasn't not listening."
Crap. Double super crap.How to get out of this sticky situation?
Ah yes.
"BANANA HAMMOCK!" I shout, rather too loudly, as I duck under his arm and careen down the hall. ********
The end. Mrow.