Friday, May 14, 2010

Date Night

At my place of employment, for whatever reason, I tend to get all the crazies. If there is someone incarcerated in jail, or prison (or as I call it, "the Big House") and they need a certain medical piece of equipment, they come to me. Like a Magnet. Lucky me.

So today at work I helped a friend of an inmate patient order above mentioned medical devise. And throughout the transaction I so badly wanted to ask what he was in for (that would have been totally unprofessional by the way) but instead made small talk about prison camp life and the trials and tribulations of sending things to an inmate on the "inside." I was trying to make the transaction as unawkward as possible, and well, as it turns out, I did a pretty damn good job of that. On his way out, the friend of the jailbird says to me,

"He's getting out soon. Do you want to meet him?"

What, does it say desperate on my forehead?! Cause if it does, I gotta get that off there.