the waiting room

Someone’s phone keeps playing the beginning of a song and then it stops. A ringtone. But why isn’t she answering?

Someone threw a lozenge in their mouth and the sound of clinking on teeth is amplified.

Someone is talking to their mom who is waiting to be called back. She’s trying to get stories from the past. Stories about cousins.

The Pink Lady is crunching on crushed iced that she slurps from her styrofoam cup. She has a sweet voice. She has an apple watch and appears hip with the times. She must have a grandkid showing her the future.

A lullaby just started playing overhead. A baby. Ope, just repeated itself… more placenta.

Someone else is reading a book. Hey, me too. I can’t quite make out the title. She’s sitting too far away for my poor eyesight.

I’m reading The Sirens of Titan by Vonnegut.

Ope. There’s that ringtone again. Silenced.

Correction: it’s not their mom. It’s their grandmother.

Two shakes and chomp chomp on ice. Three shakes. Chomp Chomp.

The sound of voices echo in the empty hallways. Mostly doctors telling patients last minute needs and employees bullshitting with one another as their paths cross. Lots of livin’ the dream lies.

Another baby has been born. Twins again. Or two singles unrelated. Who knows. The lullaby was interrupted by a sepsis alert announcement.

A doctor walked in, threw away his coffee, and walked out.

Code Gray in 3 East. Security better get there promptly.

The ringtone sounded again. And then again. But then a different tune played and she finally answered.

The Pink Lady is bored. She stares at any noise, which means she’s currently staring at the ringtone phone lady. She jumps from her chair anytime people are heard in the hallways with the hopes that they’re coming here so she can do her job, but none of the passerbyers come in. They’re just passing by.

Code Gray is secured. Phew.

Someone came in and tried to joke with the Pink Lady. He said that’ll be 100 dollars per signature. She said I don’t need a signature. He said what about paper work? She tried to take it and he refused to let go until he finished. That’s 25 dollars for paperwork. She finally chuckled to appease him. I learned her name during this exchange. Grandma Cookie… or Mary Jane.

Oh, this couple, the one with the joking man, keep talking. The only breaks for breath are when the lady finds something new in her infinite scroll to show him. At first, I was annoyed, but everything was kept positive. I can’t get irritated at positivity.

Not sure how the other reading lady is sleeping through it all, though.

Random shenanigans ensue.

Originally published at https://woodsrawr.substack.com.