So, I'm in the lobby at one of the vet hospitals I work for, chatting with a manager about the expired drugs she wants me to cart back to corporate. They just changed the paperwork for this, and we're trying to piece together what goes where. In comes a customer with a baby stroller and a little terrier on a leash. I take the paperwork and back out of the way so the manager can serve her.
As they talk, I tune them out and study the papers, and try to tally the total amount of patches and pills I'm holding.
Keep this in mind. I'm currently holding an armload of expired medication. Say, three textbooks worth, of very small boxes.
The voices to my left raise, and in the moment I start listening again, the customer turns to me and says, "Here, hold this," and hands me her baby.
Or rather, plops the baby into my already open arms. I drop a box, but I'm still holding about twelve, and the baby is laying on top of them, staring up at me from under his little bonnet like I was a salivating wolf.
This was quite a predicament. I couldn't get a decent hold on the baby without letting go of the medication, and I couldn't drop the medication without risk of dropping the baby. Flashing a "wtf?" face at the manager, who returned it, I roll the baby closer to my chest, hoping to gently pin him like I would a cat.
Baby kicks into siren mode. Mother says "What the hell are you doing to me baby?!"
Me : "Trying not to drop him!"
She snatches Junior away with a fiery glare and fusses over him. "Did the mean lady hurt you?"
Me : "Well, I imagine laying on top of all these boxes couldn't have been pleasant."
She scowls, puts Junior back in his little stroller, and stalks off with hands clenched. Little Spot wasn't expecting this; he slips, and seeing how she's hauling the leash along, he slides across the floor on his back with a most perplexed expression, before finally righting himself before she reached the door.
As they talk, I tune them out and study the papers, and try to tally the total amount of patches and pills I'm holding.
Keep this in mind. I'm currently holding an armload of expired medication. Say, three textbooks worth, of very small boxes.
The voices to my left raise, and in the moment I start listening again, the customer turns to me and says, "Here, hold this," and hands me her baby.
Or rather, plops the baby into my already open arms. I drop a box, but I'm still holding about twelve, and the baby is laying on top of them, staring up at me from under his little bonnet like I was a salivating wolf.
This was quite a predicament. I couldn't get a decent hold on the baby without letting go of the medication, and I couldn't drop the medication without risk of dropping the baby. Flashing a "wtf?" face at the manager, who returned it, I roll the baby closer to my chest, hoping to gently pin him like I would a cat.
Baby kicks into siren mode. Mother says "What the hell are you doing to me baby?!"
Me : "Trying not to drop him!"
She snatches Junior away with a fiery glare and fusses over him. "Did the mean lady hurt you?"
Me : "Well, I imagine laying on top of all these boxes couldn't have been pleasant."
She scowls, puts Junior back in his little stroller, and stalks off with hands clenched. Little Spot wasn't expecting this; he slips, and seeing how she's hauling the leash along, he slides across the floor on his back with a most perplexed expression, before finally righting himself before she reached the door.
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