Airplanes have an interesting effect on people.
As Louis CK says, they're about to sit in a magical chair in the sky that takes you places! As a result of this magical chair in the sky, apparently downing a few overpriced cocktails and skipping a few meals is in order as well.
Folks, do me and yourself a favor. Drink lots of water, leave time to eat and please, please, use caution when imbibing. You know me, I'm all for a few beers, but in moderation.
Onto our tale!
THE EMERGENCY
A passerby states a man is intoxicated.
THE ACTION
Still unsure if intoxication is a crime or a medical emergency, our dispatchers clearly spun a wheel and it landed on emergency. Since my other 2 crews are on jobs, I'm next up to field a call and away I go.
Arriving at the scene in the boarding area, familiar watering hole not far away, our patient is sitting in a chair sipping a glass of water. Introductions are made and I can quickly tell he has been drinking but is not under the influence as he understands why I am there, consents to an assessment and clearly weighs his options regarding transport.
Our friend has spent so much time arguing the finer points of electronic music with patrons of the watering hole he has missed his flight. No longer holding a valid boarding coupon his options post security are limited. Some of the boys in blue had arrived at this point but were circling a few yards back purposefully avoiding eye contact. I was sure to use the terms "You missed your flight and haven't rebooked?" loud enough to make sure they knew what was coming:
Dude has to leave the boarding area.
I know that my encounter with him is coming to an end as no metrics are found that exclude him from refusing transport, which he does repeatedly in clear sentences while pacing with a steady gait.
When informed that he'll need to leave the boarding area and go to the ticket counter to be rebooked (his airline won't do it at the gate) he decides to disagree.
We go back and forth for a minute or two when finally the following transpires. Spoiler alert: Ever see That Thing You Do when Guy asks Lamar if there are any good Jazz clubs nearby? Yeah, this was my "SCotty McDonald" moment!
Dude (the tatted music fan mentioned earlier): I don't have to go anywhere, I know my rights.
HM (our hero): This is a classic 'You don't have to go home but you can't stay here' moment my friend, here let me show you to the exit and I'll walk you to the counter.
Dude: I'm not going anywhere and nothing you do can convince me otherwise.
HM: Nothing?
Dude: (thinking for a moment...then a smug smile.) I'll leave if you can answer one question.
Here I am knowing 2 things for sure. One, if I answer correctly he'll leave. Second, whether or not I answer correctly, PD behind me will MAKE him leave, so I'm golden to give it a shot.
HM: Deal. Ask away Alex Trebek.
Dude's smile is so confident I'm starting to sweat through my T-shirt. Could this be science? History? Geography?
Dude: Who took the last train to Transcentral?
Had he crossed his arms or stood and dropped a mic it would have better fit the look of confidence on his face. You'd think he just asked me to state Boyle's law or determine the distance to Saturn on the 3rd of July 1867.
However, I was a fan of some very eclectic music back in the 90s.
HM: The Justified Ancients of Mumu.
His jaw didn't drop.
His smile didn't fade.
His eyes, however, lost focus and gazed over my shoulder, then slowly panned around the terminal as if to say 'Where did he pull that from?'
I grabbed his backpack from the chair next to him and he rose and began to walk as I escorted him. He was silent the entire walk to the ticket counter.
When I returned to the officers nearby one of them rightly asked "What the fuck was that?"
"An obscure 90s song by KLF, I think from the White Room album. Haven't heard that song in years."
I almost recounted this tale in the PCR, but decided "Patient ambulatory from scene with steady gait. Signed refusal." was enough.
As Louis CK says, they're about to sit in a magical chair in the sky that takes you places! As a result of this magical chair in the sky, apparently downing a few overpriced cocktails and skipping a few meals is in order as well.
Folks, do me and yourself a favor. Drink lots of water, leave time to eat and please, please, use caution when imbibing. You know me, I'm all for a few beers, but in moderation.
Onto our tale!
THE EMERGENCY
A passerby states a man is intoxicated.
THE ACTION
Still unsure if intoxication is a crime or a medical emergency, our dispatchers clearly spun a wheel and it landed on emergency. Since my other 2 crews are on jobs, I'm next up to field a call and away I go.
Arriving at the scene in the boarding area, familiar watering hole not far away, our patient is sitting in a chair sipping a glass of water. Introductions are made and I can quickly tell he has been drinking but is not under the influence as he understands why I am there, consents to an assessment and clearly weighs his options regarding transport.
Our friend has spent so much time arguing the finer points of electronic music with patrons of the watering hole he has missed his flight. No longer holding a valid boarding coupon his options post security are limited. Some of the boys in blue had arrived at this point but were circling a few yards back purposefully avoiding eye contact. I was sure to use the terms "You missed your flight and haven't rebooked?" loud enough to make sure they knew what was coming:
Dude has to leave the boarding area.
I know that my encounter with him is coming to an end as no metrics are found that exclude him from refusing transport, which he does repeatedly in clear sentences while pacing with a steady gait.
When informed that he'll need to leave the boarding area and go to the ticket counter to be rebooked (his airline won't do it at the gate) he decides to disagree.
We go back and forth for a minute or two when finally the following transpires. Spoiler alert: Ever see That Thing You Do when Guy asks Lamar if there are any good Jazz clubs nearby? Yeah, this was my "SCotty McDonald" moment!
Dude (the tatted music fan mentioned earlier): I don't have to go anywhere, I know my rights.
HM (our hero): This is a classic 'You don't have to go home but you can't stay here' moment my friend, here let me show you to the exit and I'll walk you to the counter.
Dude: I'm not going anywhere and nothing you do can convince me otherwise.
HM: Nothing?
Dude: (thinking for a moment...then a smug smile.) I'll leave if you can answer one question.
Here I am knowing 2 things for sure. One, if I answer correctly he'll leave. Second, whether or not I answer correctly, PD behind me will MAKE him leave, so I'm golden to give it a shot.
HM: Deal. Ask away Alex Trebek.
Dude's smile is so confident I'm starting to sweat through my T-shirt. Could this be science? History? Geography?
Dude: Who took the last train to Transcentral?
Had he crossed his arms or stood and dropped a mic it would have better fit the look of confidence on his face. You'd think he just asked me to state Boyle's law or determine the distance to Saturn on the 3rd of July 1867.
However, I was a fan of some very eclectic music back in the 90s.
HM: The Justified Ancients of Mumu.
His jaw didn't drop.
His smile didn't fade.
His eyes, however, lost focus and gazed over my shoulder, then slowly panned around the terminal as if to say 'Where did he pull that from?'
I grabbed his backpack from the chair next to him and he rose and began to walk as I escorted him. He was silent the entire walk to the ticket counter.
When I returned to the officers nearby one of them rightly asked "What the fuck was that?"
"An obscure 90s song by KLF, I think from the White Room album. Haven't heard that song in years."
I almost recounted this tale in the PCR, but decided "Patient ambulatory from scene with steady gait. Signed refusal." was enough.
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