Its Not All Grey's Anatomy

I spent last night with a fat prostitute. Let's just say this foul smelling woman set a new standard in my book of all things crude, rude and socially unacceptable. She was a jail inmate medical transfer, and to make things worse, we were attended by the world's most impersonal ill mannered hospital staff. At one point, I politely informed a nurse, "Hey, our lady (I use that word in its loosest sense) really needs to go to the restroom."

The nurse slapped down her papers, gave me her most put-out expression and said, "The bathroom is right around the corner."

"Um, she can't really walk and she is hooked up to an IV," I replied.

"Look!" The long nosed nurse exclaimed, standing up quickly in a show of aggression to reveal her full 5' 2" blue scrubbed frame, "We have two trauma helicopters coming in right now. We don't have time to deal with this!"

"Oh alright," I said calmly, "I guess no one on the hospital staff ever planned for there to be more than three patients at once in here."

"Just handle it!" And then she stormed off to spit venom at someone else.

I slowly walked back over to my partner who was seated in our curtained area paying about as much attention to our screaming patient/inmate as the semi-comatose elderly man lying next to her. "This place sucks," I say. He looks up briefly before returning to his phone video game.

"You better get someone quick, or I'm peeing in this ******* trashcan!"

"No don't do that," I plead, "Just because you are criminal doesn't mean you have to be a complete savage." This comment was followed with a level of verbal filth reserved for the darkest corners of society. This incredibly stinky woman had been to those corners. I guess more precisely she worked those corners. As she continued spilling verbal sewage, she slowly slid to the edge of the bed and started to stand. I ran over grabbed her arm and said, "Let's try to walk over to the bathroom." One wobbly vertigo step later we both realized the bathroom wasn't happening.

"I'm going! I'm going!" she screamed.

"Quick," I say to my partner, "Grab that bedside toilet by that dude's bed." He gloves up, grabs the pot and drags it over to us. I open the lid revealing a small trickle of urine already left inside.

"I'm not using that!" Then she turned her now naked enormous behind around, sat down on the trash can and began to urinate. "Don't just stand there officer! Go get me some tissue!"

Looking the opposite way and praying to God my peripheral vision would not betray me by allowing me to see any of the disgusting sight I informed her that I had no idea where bathroom tissue was kept in this place because, "...I don't work here and no where in my job description is helping a woman take a piss in a trash can!" Fortunately, my partner noticed a paper towel dispenser in the hall and grabbed a wad of them. After an extremely foul minute or two of having to watch my handcuffed cavewoman attempt to pull up her pants and get back in the bed, the event was over. I sat back down in my chair exhausted (already 2 hours overtime) and marvelled at the idea that there was a man somewhere that had paid to be with this woman. No one should be that desperate.