Code 3 for chest pain. It’s the same general area where Tony calls from twice a day, and we know it’s him. We drive Code 2.
As usual he has managed to rope some poor schmuck walking by into calling 911 for him. Rumor is once upon a time he’d call 911 from his own phone and disappear, over and over again. One day after going out on him for the 8th or 9th time, someone finally tracked his ass down, and then his phone, um, stopped working. To this day I have no idea if this is true or just a good story that gets passed around at the hospital.
We have already transported him twice today. I love making it very clear to the callers that we pick Tony up every day without pointing any fingers. Just to entertain ourselves. The callers always apologize anyway, but I don’t want them to because they don’t know and it’s not their fault.
I don’t really care that frequent flyers call all the time, but Tony is an absolute dickhead drunk, never polite, always verbally abusive. I learned this from the very first time we met. How stupid I feel now for being a little too nice to him that first time. Plenty of regulars over the years have managed to be nice, and I’m nice back. They are people too. But Tony, every single time, he insults crews, the crews’ mothers, says disgusting things to female responders. Not to mention he’s going to the ED twice a day for no reason and being a complete pig to the ED staff too before they kick him out. He can kiss my ass.
I step out and hold my arms out like I have a rhetorical question. I then ask a rhetorical question.
“Tony! Didn’t we just take you to the hospital?”
“You again?” He actually says to me. I have never heard this before from any regular. The fucking nerve of him.
“No, no, no, no, no. YOU do not get to say that to me, asshole. Get in the rig.”