My Granny called it the "sight", some call it the "gift", some call it precognition. I call it bloody predictable. The price was paid and I must say it was particularly painful.
Some people I have learnt to hate over the years and last night kicked off by three of these folk in a row. None of these people had anything wrong with them and being well known to us everyone involved knew this, especially them. All were pissed and would walk out of the hospital before we had finished booking them in, as usual. All wanted a wee trip up the road for whatever reason that springs into their rotten, Ferrel heads. Eight minutes (8) was the longest any were prepared to wait before getting a taxi home. Ho Hum. Who am I to suggest that these things should be charged for abusing the service? Give them a lift I always will.
A few more drunks and a couple of quite sad psychiatric jobs. A change of blood soaked uniform and here I am at home.
Predictable? It never fails.