Some musings

So, here I am in the Intensive Care Unit, just minding my business, when some yahoo in scrubs comes up to me and demands some sort of ID. Well, as many people have found out, the Air Force prepares people for such an eventuality, and I was no exception.

As I prepared to whip out my Big Red Kitty Identification Card and Florida Sunpass draft ID, I noticed the Environmental Services employee talking into his mop handle. The gig was up!

Quicker than you can say "I could've had a V8", I distracted the charge nurse with my handy-dandy Piece-O-Chocolate, which I lobbed into the nearest supply room. Her eyes moved from me to the dainty, little treat as it arced through the air. Foam dripping from her mouth, she attacked the morsel like a stylist on Britteny's hair. I quietly backed away......