In one of my past lives, I used to be a 9-1-1 dispatcher. You all have NO idea what that can be like. Some of the calls we rec'd you wouldn't even believe.

"9-1-1. What is your emergency?"

"Help! I'm all bound up!"

"What do you mean your all bound up, Sir? Has someone tied you up?"

"No. I mean I'm constipated. It's awful."

"Would you like me to send an ambulance, Sir?"

"No. But, if one of you girls would come give me an enema, I'd pay you twenty dollars."

~~~~****~~~~****~~~~

"9-1-1. What is your emergency?"

Caller is sobbing. "Someone ran over a skunk in front of my house."

"Ok."

"I think it's dead."

"Do you know for certain it's dead?" (It's late and it's slow and this dispatcher needs something to do.

"Well... I think it is. Do you want me to go check?"

"Yes. You go check to see if it's breathing and I'll wait on the line."

This is where you imagine the theme from Jeopardy and me thinking, "Don't look into the light, Pepe!"

"Ma'am," she's really crying now, "it's dead. It's not breathing."

"I'm sorry. I'll send someone to pick it up as soon as I can."

I'll probably be in trouble in Heaven for that one, huh?

[ August 21, 2004, 09:09 AM: Message edited by: Sher ]