And We’re Going to Live Happily Ever After

A Tragedy and Farce in One Act.

(Curtain rises to reveal a triage desk in a busy Toronto-area Emergency Department.)

Boyfriend: (suavely) You’ll take my health card? I mean, she’s my fiancée.

Triage Nurse: (head down, writing) No. I need her health card.

Boyfriend: (the same) And then she drank, like, eight shooters in a row. . .

Very Drunk Hysterical Woman: (to Boyfriend) You’re a [expletive] [expletive] sucker. And I hate you.

Boyfriend: And when I told her she was drinking too much, she got mad and put her hand through the glass.

Very Drunk Hysterical Woman: (to Boyfriend, screaming) You [expletive] [expletive] sucker. (At top of her lungs) I hate you!

Boyfriend: (unperturbed) She loves me. We’re getting married in May.

Triage Nurse: (still writing) Right.

Boyfriend: And yeah, can we get a pregnancy test too?

(Curtain.)

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  1. #1 by JennJilks on Monday 08 February 2010 - 1316

    You’re not making this up, are you? I can only say that I could tell stories that are similar in the school office. One involved a large, drunk father, making demands of staff.

    Keep the faith, you have been called to this task! (Better you than I, I would descend into a puddle of laughter!)

  2. #2 by Laney on Tuesday 09 February 2010 - 2158

    hahahaha Wow. Like a regular soap opera. Love it.

    =]

  3. #3 by anon*rn on Wednesday 10 February 2010 - 1037

    Fast forward to approximately eight months later, where they show on MY unit for delivery of the unfortunate love child; and we get to call the po-po on the babydaddy for an escalating argument and impending domestic violence (a weekly occurance around here)!

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