Preston Got Laid
"Where are you, Preston?"
"I am 2 minutes away, JP."
"Okay, well try and hurry. It is ten right now."
"I am on my way."
I stopped and had breakfast. Took my time. Sat in my car in the parking lot of the hospital. At 10:23am, Friday morning, I got out of my car, put on my red number two baseball cap, and slowly walked toward the emergency room entrance. I knew what was waiting for me. Well, I did not know the full story of what was about to happen.
I walked down the ER hallway, turned down the Transport hallway, was passing the elevators and preparing to clock in to work. JP was standing in the hallway near the time clock with the head of human resources.
"Step in here for a minute, Preston."
I was basically told that the hospital had to make a lot of cut backs and that every department had to lay off two to three employees. As I am the only technician who is not planning on working in the pharmacy for the rest of my life, I am the one who was chosen to be laid off. They said that I have first choice of jobs at any other HMA hospital. Why would I want to go and work for a corporation that had just laid me off? I hate my job, but I would like some job security. I don't know.
They told me that I am getting two weeks severance pay. I am also being given all of my sick time as I told JP that the only thing that I was worried about was the insurance. He had not thought about that. I was going to tell him that I am basically a dead man now, but thought that'd be overly melodramatic. At any rate I am getting all of my sick time on my next paycheck. Then I am getting paid the severance pay. I am kindof being given a three week paid vacation. Although after the three weeks is up I will be out of work. Monday, I have to find another job. God, this sucks.
Anyway, I am becoming a "cutter." Ya know, a self mutilator. That's what Father O'Flannigan calls it. I have cuts all up and down my left arm. It is pretty bad looking. I keep feeling like everyone that I come into contact with stares at them. I look like I have been trying and failing at slitting my wrists. Next time, I am going to stick to my inner thighs. It really is not as bad as you would think. Just looks like I got into a cat fight with an actual cat.
What else? Little Gay is stoned and being obnoxious. I HATE being around him when he is messed up. He thinks he is being all cute and funny, but it is just...grrrr. I bought Godiva and Kill Bill for myself to perk myself up about the whole job thing. I could just break down and get stoned, but I don't touch the stuff. Not to say that I never have or that on RARE occassion I don't do it. I just hate the feeling of being fucked up. It is good for about five minutes, but then, I am over it and am ready to come back down. That is why I don't do it. Alcohol on the other hand...
Father O'Flannigan wants me to write a story about him. I have to tell him one before he goes to sleep at night. Now I will tell a story for him. Father O, this is obviously for you.
Once there was a pretty, pretty, pretty princess named Father O'Flannigan. She lived in a dark, desolate kingdom known as Jacksonarnia. She was forced to live high atop a dark tower, the Tower of the Magnolias. An evil accursed troll kept watch over this pretty, pretty, pretty princess. Its name, Little Gay.
Little Gay Troll enjoyed partaking of the evil herb. Pretty, pretty, pretty princess Father O'Flannigan tried to escape many many times, but alas, the evil herb was too tempting for her. Every time pretty, pretty, pretty princess Father O'Flannigan was close to escaping, Little Gay Troll would offer the evil herb to her. She was trapped. What could she do? Where could she go? How could she escape? For that matter, COULD she escape?! It was a travesty to say the least.
After many years of being trapped by the evil herb and the Little Gay Troll, pretty, pretty, pretty princess Father O'Flannigan came up with a plan for escape. Perhaps if she gave the Little Gay Troll the one thing he wanted, he would allow her to go free. What was this one thing? It is far too terrible to even mention. Nine months later, pretty, pretty, pretty princess Father O'Flannigan gave birth to a beautiful troll baby named Guapo. Guapo was an Oompa Loompa. He was also a Jew, but that is beside the point.
Pretty, pretty, pretty princess Father O'Flannigan thought that by giving her daisy to Little Gay Troll, she may be able to buy her freedom. When that did not work, she decided that maybe, just maybe, she could give Guapo to Little Gay Troll in exchange for freedom.
Success! Luckily Little Gay Troll embraced the incestuous relationship with his tiny baby, Guapo. Afterall, it is the Jacksonarnian way. Pretty, pretty, pretty princess Father O'Flannigan was at last free and all was right in the world once more.
Unfortunately, Preston lost his job and started cutting himself. So I guess all was not right in the world.
The moral: Eat more enchilladas.
The End
Later Consuela!
"Where are you, Preston?"
"I am 2 minutes away, JP."
"Okay, well try and hurry. It is ten right now."
"I am on my way."
I stopped and had breakfast. Took my time. Sat in my car in the parking lot of the hospital. At 10:23am, Friday morning, I got out of my car, put on my red number two baseball cap, and slowly walked toward the emergency room entrance. I knew what was waiting for me. Well, I did not know the full story of what was about to happen.
I walked down the ER hallway, turned down the Transport hallway, was passing the elevators and preparing to clock in to work. JP was standing in the hallway near the time clock with the head of human resources.
"Step in here for a minute, Preston."
I was basically told that the hospital had to make a lot of cut backs and that every department had to lay off two to three employees. As I am the only technician who is not planning on working in the pharmacy for the rest of my life, I am the one who was chosen to be laid off. They said that I have first choice of jobs at any other HMA hospital. Why would I want to go and work for a corporation that had just laid me off? I hate my job, but I would like some job security. I don't know.
They told me that I am getting two weeks severance pay. I am also being given all of my sick time as I told JP that the only thing that I was worried about was the insurance. He had not thought about that. I was going to tell him that I am basically a dead man now, but thought that'd be overly melodramatic. At any rate I am getting all of my sick time on my next paycheck. Then I am getting paid the severance pay. I am kindof being given a three week paid vacation. Although after the three weeks is up I will be out of work. Monday, I have to find another job. God, this sucks.
Anyway, I am becoming a "cutter." Ya know, a self mutilator. That's what Father O'Flannigan calls it. I have cuts all up and down my left arm. It is pretty bad looking. I keep feeling like everyone that I come into contact with stares at them. I look like I have been trying and failing at slitting my wrists. Next time, I am going to stick to my inner thighs. It really is not as bad as you would think. Just looks like I got into a cat fight with an actual cat.
What else? Little Gay is stoned and being obnoxious. I HATE being around him when he is messed up. He thinks he is being all cute and funny, but it is just...grrrr. I bought Godiva and Kill Bill for myself to perk myself up about the whole job thing. I could just break down and get stoned, but I don't touch the stuff. Not to say that I never have or that on RARE occassion I don't do it. I just hate the feeling of being fucked up. It is good for about five minutes, but then, I am over it and am ready to come back down. That is why I don't do it. Alcohol on the other hand...
Father O'Flannigan wants me to write a story about him. I have to tell him one before he goes to sleep at night. Now I will tell a story for him. Father O, this is obviously for you.
Once there was a pretty, pretty, pretty princess named Father O'Flannigan. She lived in a dark, desolate kingdom known as Jacksonarnia. She was forced to live high atop a dark tower, the Tower of the Magnolias. An evil accursed troll kept watch over this pretty, pretty, pretty princess. Its name, Little Gay.
Little Gay Troll enjoyed partaking of the evil herb. Pretty, pretty, pretty princess Father O'Flannigan tried to escape many many times, but alas, the evil herb was too tempting for her. Every time pretty, pretty, pretty princess Father O'Flannigan was close to escaping, Little Gay Troll would offer the evil herb to her. She was trapped. What could she do? Where could she go? How could she escape? For that matter, COULD she escape?! It was a travesty to say the least.
After many years of being trapped by the evil herb and the Little Gay Troll, pretty, pretty, pretty princess Father O'Flannigan came up with a plan for escape. Perhaps if she gave the Little Gay Troll the one thing he wanted, he would allow her to go free. What was this one thing? It is far too terrible to even mention. Nine months later, pretty, pretty, pretty princess Father O'Flannigan gave birth to a beautiful troll baby named Guapo. Guapo was an Oompa Loompa. He was also a Jew, but that is beside the point.
Pretty, pretty, pretty princess Father O'Flannigan thought that by giving her daisy to Little Gay Troll, she may be able to buy her freedom. When that did not work, she decided that maybe, just maybe, she could give Guapo to Little Gay Troll in exchange for freedom.
Success! Luckily Little Gay Troll embraced the incestuous relationship with his tiny baby, Guapo. Afterall, it is the Jacksonarnian way. Pretty, pretty, pretty princess Father O'Flannigan was at last free and all was right in the world once more.
Unfortunately, Preston lost his job and started cutting himself. So I guess all was not right in the world.
The moral: Eat more enchilladas.
The End
Later Consuela!
posted by Preston at 8:12 PM
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