Saturday, June 8, 2013

No Ma'am, It's Still Not an Emergency.

I think I'm in big trouble.

I've heard that the people that attempt suicide by diving over Niagara Falls and have to be rescued, are sent a bill for the rescue.  That little operation to rescue a plunger costs about $10,000.  And that number is from Wikipedia, so I'm going to say it probably costs about $55,000.  Nice thing to get as you are wrestled into the padded room by the white coats.

Now don't go getting my info from Google in order to send the booby hatch orderlies my way, I'm not talking about anything as drastic as that.  Besides, that water is freakin cold, y'all already know that I'm not a fan.  I won't be getting into my swimming skivvies to ride that ride.

I might be in trouble because my ass keeps calling 911.  How many times will they let a butt dial slide before they send me a bill?

The first time I called 911, I did it on purpose.  A semi truck was weaving back and forth going between 35 and 60 mph on an interstate.  I really thought he would kill someone as he fell asleep at the wheel.  ...and just so you know, I followed that truck from NC to Va, and no cops ever appeared on the scene.  And I really wanted to witness an exciting slow speed chase and take down!

The second time I called, it was on purpose too.  Just so you know, I'm not one of those crazy people that call the emergency number because the neighbor put some ugly yard art that he made from broken plastic (hangers and kitchen drying rack) in his front yard.  It has to be something that will cause grave danger to someone.  So this second time, I called because there was a mattress in the median of the interstate, and a guy standing next to his car on the outside shoulder of the highway.  This dillweed was going to run across 4 lanes of traffic to retrieve the mattress that launched off his roof.  I think I called him a knucklehead when I spoke to the 911 operator.  I mean, what the hell!  ...I didn't backtrack to see if the cops showed up at that one.  You can't fix stupid.
I have no idea what this says,
but I bet it's 'NO, YOU TAKE

But that's it.  Those are the only times I meant to call 911.

And I'm sure they get a lot of accidental butt dials.  My first was actually my son playing with the phone.  I found out that even if the keyboard is locked, you can still dial the 9-1-1, and it goes through.  Whoops.  I apologized sincerely and I think I was forgiven.  Then it happened again.  And again.  Three times is the charm, right?  Nope.

I did it again yesterday.  4.

They just left a message this time...  I think when they recognize my number, the call is handed to the newest member of the operator crew.  I'm who they cut their teeth on.

So that's six.  SIX times I have called 911 from the same phone number.  God, I really hope I don't ever have a real emergency.

Oh!  And I have called poison control!  When she was 2, my daughter bit into a glow stick while we were camping.  Her mouth and throat were this glowey weird yellow, much the same color of what I imagine alien blood to look like.  (for reference, the goop inside glow sticks, even though it looks like the waste that the Toxic Avenger sprang forth from, is strangely non toxic)

So let's put that call to poison control into the growing pile of  'it's that damn woman's ass again, you get it.'

I wonder if I'm on the opposite of a 'watch list'?

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