I left the Huntsman Cancer Institute after 10:00 last night. First, I had problems with the elevator. I kept pushing the button for the parking garage but it wasn’t staying lit. It took me to the lobby but I needed to descend one more floor. Several times I pushed the button. I even tried holding it to see if that would convince it to take me one more floor.
“You need to use a different elevator to get to the parking garage,” an omnipresent voice declared.
“Oh,” I said and switched elevators. I assumed the helpful tip came from the security guard but the way the lobby was laid out, I never saw him. Plus, I was feeling a little embarrassed for not figuring out the elevator switch myself so I didn’t exactly look for him.
I got to the parking garage and realized how alone I was. In a parking garage. At night. My first clue came when I saw a very large, brawny man with a shaved head walking toward the door. We made eye contact though my glance was furtive and I concentrated on finding the car. Once I made it to the car, I had to get a Propel out from the cooler in the back seat because something in the Salt Lake air dehydrates me a bit. I got the drink out and started to unlock the front door with my key when I saw Mr. Strongarm again. This time he had moved with ninja like skill and was in front of me. The sight of him almost made me drop my keys but I managed to climb in and sit down. Quickly, I locked the doors and he nodded at me.
So, he must be a security guard hired by the hospital to roam the garage at night. A staff member from the hospital could have mentioned something about him to me. Just a little warning when I was walking down the hall would have been appreciated. Sure, there is probably something about security in the literature in the hospital room I spent nine hours in. But I never got bored enough to read any of the hospital literature that whole day.
Then I started thinking how unfortunate it was that I jumped to conclusions about the man. I assumed by his (quite menacing) appearance that he was a bad guy when in fact he is a good guy. I think. I’m kind of assuming that also. Who knows? Maybe somebody’s car was broken into last night and I was an unwitting witness. Oops. But if he was a security guard I tried thinking of ways the hospital could make this position a little less intimidating to late night visitors. The only idea I came up with was to hire little old grandmas to patrol the area. Which would probably defeat the purpose. Maybe the hospital should just keep doing what it’s doing. But, a verbal warning to late-night guests would be nice. For example, omnipresent voice could have mentioned it after he helped me with the elevators. Just a quick, “And by the way, you will see a ninja-like security guard who resembles Mr. Clean in the garage. Do not be alarmed. We call him Mr. Strongarm.”
I headed down the mountain and saw an ambulance pull up behind me. It had one headlight burned out. “That has got to be breaking some kind of code,” I said to myself. The ambulance followed me to the interstate. Suddenly, I felt like I was in a Quentin Tarintino movie. Perhaps, there is a man out in this world looking for the one-headlight ambulance. Yes, that’s it. The driver of the ambulance poses as an EMT and is actually a serial killer looking for his next victim. He also wears a patch on one eye making him the One-Eyed EMT driving the one-headlight ambulance. That sounds quirky enough for a Tarantino movie, right? Unfortunately for him, but fortunately for the rest of us, one of his victims involved The Man’s wife. And now The Man is in hot pursuit of the One-Eyed EMT driving the one-headlight ambulance to exact vengeance. I might throw in the fact that I had just watched an episode of The Mentalist with my mom before I left the hospital. That might help explain my brain flow. Plus, the fact I spent 9 hours in a hospital room. I’ll admit I was a bit loopy.
So much so, I missed my exit and caused myself extra drive time. But the one-headlight ambulance followed me for about 62 blocks and by the end I managed to freak myself out a bit. Good news though, I am not the One-Eyed EMT’s next victim. Everyone can breathe a sigh of relief because I know you were worried.