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This thread, http://www.customerssuck.com/board/s...ad.php?t=49947, reminded me of an similar incident I had several years ago.
A little background: many ambulance services operate 24/48, that is to say, you work a 24 hour shift, followed by 48 hours off. You operate out of a station or firehouse, and are allowed to sleep at night when not responding to calls. Eating, however, is a chancy business. If you choose to eat in a restaurant and a call comes in, you must abandon your food and respond to the call. I usually bring food to work with me and cook it myself. However, on this occasion, my partner wanted fast food. We had just received our food in to-go bags, but sat down to eat in the restaurant. I had just unwrapped my delicious burger when the Old Stupid Bastard bustled up to our table.
Those who have worked in fast food settings know the type: Usually wears a ball cap, long sleeved shirt buttoned to the neck, and comes in at opening nearly every morning. Apparently the high point of his day is to read the free newspapers provided, and pitch a bitch about whatever is currently chafing at his universe.
Without any greeting at all, OSB barks at us: “Did you drive that ambulance here?”
Noting that he was obviously displeased about something, my brain to mouth filter successfully deleted the first response that came to mind (“Oh no! There it is again! Please, mister, the damn thing has been stalking us all day, can you distract it while we sneak out the back?”)
I thought, oops, did we accidentally block somebody in? and replied, “Yes, sir, is there a problem?”
OSB: “Hell yes, there’s a problem! I don’t pay taxes so you can drive an ambulance to Burger King!”
Swearing at me. Strike One. Playing the “my taxes” card. Strike Two.
Me: “We have to eat sometime, sir”.
OSB: “You should park the ambulance and drive your own car here!” (He is still hollering, and shows no sign of lowering his volume).
Me: “We have to keep the ambulance with us, sir, in case we get a call.”
OSB: “Well why are you in Burger King when you should be doing your job?!”
Potential Strike Three. Accusing me of slacking and telling me what my job is. But I’ll let this one go.
Me: “Sir, the ambulance is fueled up, fully stocked, and ready to answer calls. All we have to do is walk outside, get in, and go.”
OSB: “Well if you would rather eat than do your job, you should shut your ambulance down and let another ambulance answer the call!”
Me: “We’re the on-call ambulance for ThisTown, sir. The next nearest ambulance is in OtherTown, about ten miles from here.” (And who would be the first to complain if the response time was that long?)
OSB: “I know where the hell OtherTown is, and that’s not the point! You ambulance drivers shouldn’t be getting paid to drive to Burger King!”
Strike three.
Ambulance. Driver.
Oh, no, you did not call me that. There is no greater insult you can throw at a paramedic than “ambulance driver”. Would you call a doctor a “pill pusher”? Or worse, call a nurse a “bedpan emptier”?
I am now done with this exchange. Furthermore, I have just realized that my food is growing cold. I should have emulated my partner, who ignored OSB from the outset and is happily chomping on HIS food.
Me: “Sir, here is the phone number for my supervisor if you have any further concerns. I would now like to finish my meal before we get another call. And by the way, I am a paramedic, not an ambulance driver. Good day, sir.”
I grasp my burger with both hands and prepare to eat.
OSB: “Wait a minute, I’m not done with you!”
I ignore him, and take the first delicious cholesterol-laden bite.
OSB: “I’m TALKING to youuuuu!!!!”
And OSB reaches across the table, between myself and my partner, and POKES ME IN THE CHEST!!!
In a reflexive motion, my left hand releases the burger, and my left arm sweeps up and out from the elbow. OSB’s arm gets batted away from my chest. Now it’s OSB’s turn to
My partner speaks to OSB for the first time: “Get your f***ing arm out of my face, jacka*s.”
OSB: “I’ll have your job for that!”
Me: “And I’ll have you arrested for assaulting a public official.”
I reach for my lapel mike, because I am not kidding.
Me: “Dispatch, EMS <unit>.”
OSB: “What?? What??!!”
I can barely speak through the adrenaline surge, but I manage to stay rational.
Me: “I’ve got an eyewitness that you touched me without my permission, in an aggressive manner, while I was seated, and while my hands were fully occupied, so you can’t claim that you were defending yourself from any sort of provocative motion.”
Partner: “Damn straight.”
OSB: “F**K YOU!!!” and storms off.
Partner yells at OSB’s retreating back, “Believe me, he’s not your type!”
As the adrenaline rush recedes, I realize that the entire restaurant is now dead silent and staring at us. Furthermore, dispatch is responding.
Dispatch: “Go ahead, EMS <unit>.”
Me: “Uh . . . Dispatch, disregard.”
We later report the exchange to our supervisor, who laughs his ass off, and the director, who counsels us on dealing with the public, and states that if OSB calls to complain, he will deal with him. Thanks, T., what a super boss you were! The OSB never called, and we never saw him again at that particular Burger King.
A little background: many ambulance services operate 24/48, that is to say, you work a 24 hour shift, followed by 48 hours off. You operate out of a station or firehouse, and are allowed to sleep at night when not responding to calls. Eating, however, is a chancy business. If you choose to eat in a restaurant and a call comes in, you must abandon your food and respond to the call. I usually bring food to work with me and cook it myself. However, on this occasion, my partner wanted fast food. We had just received our food in to-go bags, but sat down to eat in the restaurant. I had just unwrapped my delicious burger when the Old Stupid Bastard bustled up to our table.
Those who have worked in fast food settings know the type: Usually wears a ball cap, long sleeved shirt buttoned to the neck, and comes in at opening nearly every morning. Apparently the high point of his day is to read the free newspapers provided, and pitch a bitch about whatever is currently chafing at his universe.
Without any greeting at all, OSB barks at us: “Did you drive that ambulance here?”
Noting that he was obviously displeased about something, my brain to mouth filter successfully deleted the first response that came to mind (“Oh no! There it is again! Please, mister, the damn thing has been stalking us all day, can you distract it while we sneak out the back?”)
I thought, oops, did we accidentally block somebody in? and replied, “Yes, sir, is there a problem?”
OSB: “Hell yes, there’s a problem! I don’t pay taxes so you can drive an ambulance to Burger King!”
Swearing at me. Strike One. Playing the “my taxes” card. Strike Two.
Me: “We have to eat sometime, sir”.
OSB: “You should park the ambulance and drive your own car here!” (He is still hollering, and shows no sign of lowering his volume).
Me: “We have to keep the ambulance with us, sir, in case we get a call.”
OSB: “Well why are you in Burger King when you should be doing your job?!”
Potential Strike Three. Accusing me of slacking and telling me what my job is. But I’ll let this one go.
Me: “Sir, the ambulance is fueled up, fully stocked, and ready to answer calls. All we have to do is walk outside, get in, and go.”
OSB: “Well if you would rather eat than do your job, you should shut your ambulance down and let another ambulance answer the call!”
Me: “We’re the on-call ambulance for ThisTown, sir. The next nearest ambulance is in OtherTown, about ten miles from here.” (And who would be the first to complain if the response time was that long?)
OSB: “I know where the hell OtherTown is, and that’s not the point! You ambulance drivers shouldn’t be getting paid to drive to Burger King!”
Strike three.
Ambulance. Driver.
Oh, no, you did not call me that. There is no greater insult you can throw at a paramedic than “ambulance driver”. Would you call a doctor a “pill pusher”? Or worse, call a nurse a “bedpan emptier”?
I am now done with this exchange. Furthermore, I have just realized that my food is growing cold. I should have emulated my partner, who ignored OSB from the outset and is happily chomping on HIS food.
Me: “Sir, here is the phone number for my supervisor if you have any further concerns. I would now like to finish my meal before we get another call. And by the way, I am a paramedic, not an ambulance driver. Good day, sir.”
I grasp my burger with both hands and prepare to eat.
OSB: “Wait a minute, I’m not done with you!”
I ignore him, and take the first delicious cholesterol-laden bite.
OSB: “I’m TALKING to youuuuu!!!!”
And OSB reaches across the table, between myself and my partner, and POKES ME IN THE CHEST!!!
In a reflexive motion, my left hand releases the burger, and my left arm sweeps up and out from the elbow. OSB’s arm gets batted away from my chest. Now it’s OSB’s turn to
My partner speaks to OSB for the first time: “Get your f***ing arm out of my face, jacka*s.”
OSB: “I’ll have your job for that!”
Me: “And I’ll have you arrested for assaulting a public official.”
I reach for my lapel mike, because I am not kidding.
Me: “Dispatch, EMS <unit>.”
OSB: “What?? What??!!”
I can barely speak through the adrenaline surge, but I manage to stay rational.
Me: “I’ve got an eyewitness that you touched me without my permission, in an aggressive manner, while I was seated, and while my hands were fully occupied, so you can’t claim that you were defending yourself from any sort of provocative motion.”
Partner: “Damn straight.”
OSB: “F**K YOU!!!” and storms off.
Partner yells at OSB’s retreating back, “Believe me, he’s not your type!”
As the adrenaline rush recedes, I realize that the entire restaurant is now dead silent and staring at us. Furthermore, dispatch is responding.
Dispatch: “Go ahead, EMS <unit>.”
Me: “Uh . . . Dispatch, disregard.”
We later report the exchange to our supervisor, who laughs his ass off, and the director, who counsels us on dealing with the public, and states that if OSB calls to complain, he will deal with him. Thanks, T., what a super boss you were! The OSB never called, and we never saw him again at that particular Burger King.
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