Tuesday, January 24, 2006

The Steff, The Barista, and 140+ Minutes of Izzy

Work has been a killer.  It seems everyone over the last two days in New York City has decided they need an ambulance… and they need it now!  Of course, to understand the conundrum I speak of, you need to understand a bit about New York City geographically.  

See, the city itself is divided into 5 county like land masses known as boroughs.  Most people identify New York City with the borough of Manhattan.  It is after all the home of the Empire State Building, Wall Street, the Chrysler Building, and Madison Square Garden.  The other boroughs are the homes of other such landmarks, such as Yankee Stadium in the Bronx, Shea Stadium in Queens, Coney Island in Brooklyn, and… well… Staten Island has the ferry.

As for healthcare in New York, every borough has designated trauma centers and specialty sites as well as a wealth of clinics and doctors.  Jacobi Hospital in the Bronx is one of the premiere hospitals… although one would never guess it.  It is a level 1 trauma center, has a barriatric unit, but it also houses the only city snake bite antidote unit… seeing as how it is only a mile away from the Bronx Zoo makes it more understandable.  What most people don’t realize, is everyone in the outer boroughs ends up going to see the “specialist” in Manhattan… and everyone in Manhattan usually goes to the “premier” doctors in the outer boroughs.  In other words… we are constantly doing the inter-borough shuffle.

So amidst all this, here I sit, trying to get a simple blog entry in.  It really almost didn’t happen again, mainly because I got sidetracked with an article about another blogger I already mentioned… but no one should think because the boroughs burn with calls that the drama comes to a halt!

So, yesterday Izzy called me cute.  This was over an IM in the afternoon… and I was elated.  Of course, she basically deflated me by saying how she felt I was funny, amusing, and a clown to her kind of cute.  Right.  So after feeling like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer for about ten minutes, I then wanted to tell her to get her shine box.

Last night I was supposed to call her from AC Moore where she wanted yarn and I had some frames to pick-up for some holiday photos.  Of course, as I was about to leave work, a crisis occurred.  After three hours in dealing with it, I finally made it to where I could head home.  So I called… and it rang 10 times.  So I raced… ate probably around 5 lights on Pennsylvania Avenue, and got home in time to catch her online.

She was doing something… probably talking to another cyber buddy… and said she’d call me in fifteen minutes.  I of course said no problem.  After logging off I grabbed some spaghetti and sat down to watch some wrestling.  A minute later… Breaking the Habit is coming from my phone.  Steff.

She had just gotten home from work and had some questions about a protocol that had come up.  Of course, she called me, because whether people realized it or not, my partner Freakzilla and I have been responsible for causing a number of protocol changes over the years due to our “extraordinary interpretation and resourcefulness” while working in the field.  That line actually appears seven times in our Department of Health files.  Yes… the NYSDOH keeps a file on me.  Nice to know I’m loved by bureaucrats the world over.  So I explain to her why the protocol says what it says, and the ways to document around it… since it is one I have not yet had the opportunity to alter… and we talk briefly about life.  

She hasn’t called Crumb… and inside I am grateful as all hell… but she’s really still stuck on him and the New Guy just ain’t cutting it.   She asks me what’s wrong… and I’m watching the clock… denying anything is wrong and basically trying to yawn signaling I need to be asleep.  She relents and we say goodnight.  I put the phone down.  A minute later… Rescue Me is coming from the phone.  Barista.

After the usual “Hello my munchkin” banter, we get to the heart of the matter.  She wants me to work on her resume AND get her a job at a hospital where I’m friends with one of the bosses.  How does she devise all this?  Well… because it’s where The Steff now works… and her new boss being my friend.  In 12 years in this business I have made 3 personal recommendations in my entire career.  Why?  Because I do have somewhat of a reputation to maintain regardless of what people may think.  So if you’re not X, Freakzilla, or The Steff… get it on your own.  

After telling her this nicely… she continues to yap about how horrible her life is and so on.  I listen to her complaining about the boyfriend who is moving out, and her whining about work, and her bitching about Jen the Red and if it was her asking I would give it to her (which… as much as I love Jen the Red… nope, sorry, nada, nunca, nyet).  Finally… she gives up after 17 minutes… and moves on to harass whoever is left on her list.

Then, I put the phone down, and just as I’m about to start eating… here comes 1,2 Step from the phone.  Finally.  Izzy.  So last night’s phone call was 141 minutes and 49 seconds according to my cell phone timer.  Not too shabby for a guy who traditionally doesn’t talk if I do say so myself.  Our range of topics ran the gamet from who’s playing in the Superbowl to why I’ve been more emotional over the last few days than normal.  So, finally, at 1:30 this morning… we said goodnight.

So today, I come back to my desk to see an IM from her… and she’s flipping.  Losing her mind over something that happened.  Now, I admit, I was pretty damn needy yesterday… and had been looking forward to another day of neediness… but I figured I better turn around and be the man for a change.  So… I think I was.  I told her my opinion… and more importantly listened to what she had to say.  After some serious thinking… I gave her how I felt about it in a way I think she understood.

In the end… guess what?  Well… she had needed a drink tonight… but I’m on my way to a CPR Refresher (which is SO stupid… but I need to do it for my other state certs)… so instead… it’s going to be dinner tomorrow night.  Imagine?  I actually have a date… well… I think it’s a date… I mean… I never really asked if it was a “date” date… did I have to?  Isn’t it?  Oh boy… now I’m starting to hyperventilate… well… anyway… there it is… I have a date for dinner tomorrow night with a girl who giggles.

And that just makes my freaking knees weak.
Posted by New York City's Watchdog :: 1/24/2006 08:13:00 PM :: Permalink :: 0 Bones Added to the Pile

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