Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Your Majesty, your mop awaits

There is an attendant at the hospital that you would have to see to believe.

Someone else punches his time card.  Sometimes he does it himself, marches right back out the front door, gets into his car parked in the fire lane, and leaves.

Inside, when he actually makes an appearance on the ward, he does no work.  Nothing.  He sits in the break room, eating, reading the paper, talking on the phone.  If he does go onto the floor, he talks on his phone or reads the newspaper.

When I was new, I told him to do work.  At first, he smirked and kept reading.  When the supervisor made rounds, I attempted to discuss the situation with her.  I was the wrong one.  Someone pulled me aside and explained that this attendant was a KING in his village back home and that the supervisor is married to one of his cousins.  As the king and as a male, she must listen to him.  It is irrelevant that she is a supervisor and he is an attendant.

"So?" was my response.  The coworker was serious.

I tried informing my coworkers that the hospital is not this man's kingdom and that he needs to perform work to collect his paycheck and that if he didn't like this treatment, he could go back home to his loyal subjects.  Useless.

His reign is also the excuse given as to why he is always on the phone:  he is ruling his kingdom from afar.

One weekend, I was working with a very pregnant nurse from his kingdom.  Her c-section was scheduled in two days and she wanted to work until the end.  She was sitting in a rolling chair when The King came up behind her and grabbed the chair out from under her.  She fell directly on her butt and rolled over, unable to breathe.  I called for help and ran to her.  The King stood over us, laughing, not the least bit worried or sorry.  With the help of another nurse, we got her breathing again.  She wasn't bleeding.  As soon as she could talk, she said, "I'm fine.  It's no big deal."  The other nurse lashed into The King that he could have killed the baby.  He shrugged and walked off.  The pregnant nurse explained, "It's my last baby.  He's just upset because all my children are my husband's.  I'm not having a baby with him and he's just a little mad."  These are the people I work with.  Are they messed up or what?

Fast forward a few years later.  His Royal Highness still does not work.  I have managed to develop an effective mannerism where I tell him to do work and he gets very pissed off very quickly and storms out.  I'd rather have him gone the entire day than look at his lazy ass and smirking face getting paid to sit there and do nothing.  I can't stand to have him near me.  If he would attack his own pregnant countrywoman, imagine what he would do to me.




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