ah, the life of a firefighter
Sorry for potato image quality! Our fire department is approaching it’s 100th birthday. The building has been around about that long. So we get a tone late at night, at approximately 10:30 PM. Multi-car accident. Now, our district is both fire and med- we’re a small town, and there’s not enough of us to have two departments, so most of us train in both. Chief and I roll out in the ambulance, sirens going, and our big truck pulls out after us, sirens also going. We get back at about 2 am, and, when we go into the station, we reverse in, and we have to have our lights going and the reverse makes that beeping noise every large vehicle makes when backing up. Enter Rich Asshole.
Now, for this guy, I want you to imagine Steve Carrel if he had Eric Trump’s face shape and always looked like he had farted and gotten away with it. Got the picture? Good. So I am cleaning out the ambulance, Chief is in the office filling out paperwork, and the other guys are across the bay doing their fire truck. And in comes Asshole Rich Dude.
Now the department is on the busiest street in town. We have to have sirens going when we pull out, it’s a liability. And, as I mentioned before, going back in causes quite a ruckus. “If you don’t quiet down, I’m gonna call the police and file a noise complaint.” Now, it’s 2 am. I’m tired, I have work in the morning, and I’m currently wearing the clothes I keep in my locker because my other ones were a biohazard. “Excuse me, sir?” “I was sleeping JUST FINE.
And now you’ve woken me up twice with your sirens!” In a voice trained by customer service, I gently say “I am sorry, but we have to have sirens going, and I can’t stop the reverse noise.” “Can’t you use a quieter siren?” It’s 2 am. I’m half asleep, I am holding a biohazard bag, and I am leaning out of my ambulance to deal with this. boardboardboardboardboardboardboardboardboard