The Infamous Ellen James(6)

Yeah, fucker, haven't you read the one-night stand book of etiquette?

He abruptly stood up and began to collect his clothes while simultaneously giving me a full-on naked view of his very nice ass.

And that's the story of how I brought home a deaf guy and had drunken one-night-stand sex with him. You're welcome for the comedic entertainment.

In that moment, I promised myself I would never drink tequila or have one-night stand sex again until I manage to get over this terrible hangover and seek therapy.

God damn drunken one-night stands...

I've got to get my act together and stop doing this.





Chapter Five



“'Pull on my pubes' and 'handcuff my balls' are never useful instructions from a physician attempting to run a code.”



Right now, my life feels like it's probably at an all-time low. Take my current situation for example: I'm sitting in the ER breakroom, attempting to eat shitty hospital cafeteria food, while having flashbacks of my ex-fiancé banging it out with loose lips Vagina—I mean Veronica. Ha!

And now I'm even laughing at my own jokes, but seriously... That's a little funny, right?

Shirley rushes into the breakroom looking visibly frantic. "Where have you been?! We've got a code in bed three and I need you there!"

So much for sitting down for a few minutes...

"Obviously I was under the very wrong impression that hospital employees get lunch breaks around here."

"I don't need the attitude today, Elle,” Nurse Ratchet replied with a raise of her unibrow.

Deep breaths, Elle. Deep breaths.

I get out of my chair, throw my crappy food away, and head for the god damn code that's interrupting the only five minute break I've had since clocking in ten hours ago.

"Excuse me, nurse. Someone needs to pay for my cab ride back to my house. I called an amalance to get here, because I don't got a car." This demand is coming from a guy who is updating his Facebook status on his brand-new iPhone.

I briskly walk around that idiot without even acknowledging him. I do this for several reasons. One, I obviously need to get to this code, and two, I probably would have said some things that would have been deemed highly inappropriate by Human Resources.

I know I'm a little jaded, but you trying working in an ER for over seven years and then tell me if your view of the world has changed. I continue to quickly rush to bed three while silently repeating my mantra in my head.

I love my job. I love my job. I love my job.

I get into the room and can already tell this is going to be a complete clusterfuck, because the new ER physician is attempting to run this code. Dr. Bill Simon is a thirty-five-year-old physician who is a few inches shy of five foot five and as skinny as Olive Oil, and he also happens to have Tourette's.

Now, don't start judging me. I really don't have anything against people with Tourette's Syndrome, but it can become quite hard to ignore when an ER doctor's Tourette's is more pronounced under stressful situations. That's right—stressful situations make this man's Tourette's go haywire. And yes, he actually chose Emergency Medicine as his specialty.

Some things just can't be explained.

So here I am, watching shit hit the fan while good ol' Doctor Bill attempts to run a code despite his ill-timed outbursts. Oh, did I forget to mention that Bill's Tourette's cause him to yell out sexually explicit comments?

Sometimes it really is the little things in life.

"So what do we have here?” I ask Amy.

"He's a forty-five-year-old truck driver who was brought in by squad after being found nonresponsive at a truck stop. No known medical or surgical history. Next of kin has yet to be contacted," Amy responds as she continues chest compressions. The girl couldn't look ugly even if she tried. She's standing there pounding on some guy's chest and still managing to look like she's just walked off a fucking runaway. If she wasn't my best friend, she'd be one of those girls I'd love to hate for always looking so damn gorgeous. Her big brown eyes framed with thick, black lashes, her long brunette hair, and her adorably curvy body that can even be seen in loose scrubs. Yeah, she's kind of a bitch that way.

“What's… PICKLE PISS! What's our rhythm?" Dr. Bill yells out.

"He's still in V-fib, Dr. Simon," I tell him as I take over chest compressions to give Amy a break.

"Okay, okay. Go ahead and intubate. Let's continue CPR and prepare to…SWEET MOMMA'S PUSSY…BIG-LIPPED VAGINAS…prepare to defibrillate…PULL ON MY PUBES!" Dr. Bill sputters a little too loudly while making it quite obvious he is pretty worked up and extremely nervous.

I don't know how long I can hold back laughter if he keeps demanding someone pulls on his pubes. I look over at Amy, raise my eyebrow, and slightly shake my head while I continue chest compressions on this poor truck driver. She looks back at me, indicating that she agrees that this code is going to be a shit show.