I grab the bag and check. There is a small, clear bag in one of the side pockets. I don’t touch it but I can see small, round tablets.)
Me: “They’re pink.”
Manager: “Pin– Oh, they’re already here.”
(Literally as he says this, the EMTs burst through the door, with the woman my manager was speaking to hanging up.)
EMT: “Sorry, once we knew it was [Patron], we knew we had to hurry.”
(I surrender her to the EMTs. After a few minutes and an IV, she comes around. She is laughing and quite jolly with them as they take her away on a gurney.)
EMT: “Thanks for the help. I’ll just need to ask some questions.”
Me: “Sure, but how did you know it was her?”
EMT: “Sweetie, I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve been called out for her. Now we just take it as standard to call ahead when we’re told it’s a middle-aged woman.”
(I really have to commend them. I can’t imagine having to deal with the same woman time and time again as she slowly destroys herself.)
|