There I was, sitting outside the newsagent shop at the end of the hospital road. The newsagent who I'm sure I keep financially stable with my purchases of large amounts of caffeinated beverages. As I finish off the paperwork from my previous job one of our ambulances races past me on the way to a job. A woman chooses that moment to cross the road without first looking for big lumps of yellow metal and blue flashing lights moving at speed.
The ambulance misses her, but she stands in the middle of the road and swears at them. She then continues to walk across the road and I note that she spots my ambulance…
She stalks over to me and bangs on my window. I wind it down a notch.
“Do you know that ambulance?”, she shouts at me.
I tell her the truth, I have no idea who it was.
“Yes you do!”, small flecks of spit hit the window of the ambulance, “You ambulance drivers think you own the fucking road!”
She continues in a similar vein with much more swearing. Most of it directed at me. She won't let me get a word in edgeways.
I consider stepping out of the ambulance and punching her on the nose – I reconsider as it's not a good career choice.
I tell her to go away. Maybe a little less politely than policy would suggest.
Apparently, because we all share a uniform we all share a hive mind. Also I suspect that she wouldn't be shouting at me if she were to come across me in the street wearing my jeans and hoodie.
After all that I went to one of my 'happy places', off to the Tate & Lyle factory for a minor (but exceedingly painful) injury. I love it there, not only do they always have someone to meet us at the gate and escort us to the patient, but the arrangement of brick and pipework hits some sort of aesthetic nerve in my body. I'd love to roam around there taking photographs of the buildings and machinery there – it's a beautiful place.