911 Operators Need to Take it Seriously

I realize that 911 operators must get many non-emergent calls. There are enough idiotic people out there in our nation to ensure that someone utilizes our emergency system as a stripped down version of Onstar. For as many true distress calls as they receive, operators also field prank calls and stupid questions. I'm it is a high stress career, given that a large number of calls are related to crimes and accidents. Nevertheless, I'm even more confident that a 911 operator should treat every call as if it was truly a crisis.

A six year old in Detroit called 911 when he found his mother collapsed and not breathing on the kitchen floor. He explained to the 911 person that he found her passed out on the floor. The exasperated operator did not believe it was a bona fide call and admonished the boy, telling him to stop playing. She also asked "Where's the grownups at?" and when his answer was too faint to make out she scolded him further and threatened him. When he didn't put an adult on the phone she decided on her own that he was making a prank phone call.

Her words? "I don't care. You shouldn't be playing on the phone. Now put her on the phone before I send the police out there to knock on the door and you gonna be in trouble." This scared little Robert Turner badly enough that he hung up. Who wouldn't, when you're a child and terrified and calling for help only to be berated and made to feel as if you are doing something wrong?

His mother? Died lying on the floor of the kitchen with her son helpless to do anything but be by her side.

It's a sad, sad nation when the very people in positions to provide assistance are such jaded and cynical people. This 911 operator's personality--and character--caused a lack of medical attention that may or may not have made a difference to the life of Sherel Turner but would have given one small boy the confidence that someone was striving to answer his plea for help.

The dispatcher's union states that the operator will be disciplined but not dismissed from her job, due to her years of service. At first I wondered if the punishment was enough but then realized that unless this woman has a completely hardened heart, she will have to live out her life knowing that her inaction had a severe impact. We teach our children to call 911 if it's an emergency. Even if it is found that Turner wouldn't have survived after receiving medical attention, the operator's reaction to the call is bound to foster distrust in the heart of Robert Turner.

Pillow Fight Club!

Too much stress at the office lately? Road rage on Mopac getting ya down? Have you had a recent break up and need to work off some boyfriend/girlfriend resentment in a manner that ensures APD won't show up looking for you? We have the perfect solution!

Auditorium Shores will be the scene of the very first Central Texas Pillow Fight Club tomorrow. Those in the know have already been recruited for the flash mob fun and are now talkin' it up around town and on craigslist. The goal is to have more fighters than the PFC San Francisco event, which had somewhere around a thousand plus. So bring your pillows and wait for the bell to toll 8pm and the fun begins. Rules include no jumpin' the gun so please wait for the 8pm bell, no heavy items in the pillowcases, everyone fights, do not hit anyone with your camera (you know you'll have it with you) and that this is a safe, fun event so please be as conscientious as possible and swing at the torso instead of the spectacles on someone's head.

Yes, yes I know I violated the first two rules of Fight Club but how in the hell are you supposed to have a huge crowd if you don't talk about it?

Do You Have the Err-pez?

Saturday night after the burlesque show, which featured an outstanding performance by Miss Maulie, we found our way over to Oil Can Harry's to satisfy my friends' urge to shake their moneymakers to the thumpa thumpa thumpa of DJ Bryan Konrad's offerings. On my first foray into the bar I was stopped by a handsome Puerto Rican man named Danny who complimented my eyes ("beeyootiful") and curls ("Eye luve dem") while sliding his hand down my back and into my jeans. I introduced myself, "hi, I'm Kaya and that is my thong" before stopping him from caressing my nalgas. Later on, when I turned to thank Danny for a drink he'd purchased he realized to his horror that I have a cold sore.

See, I've gotten cold sores since I was a toddler. They're triggered by stress and sunburned or chapped lips. I happen to have one now. It isn't huge and it isn't too bad of one so I guess it was easy to miss in a dimly lit bar. However, the brighter lights of the patio must've had some magic power to magnify because Danny was stupendously disgusted. "You have the err-pez?" was his horrified question. "Do you have the err-pez down there?" Now I'm not opposed to a stranger buying me a drink. And I didn't kick said stranger in the groin when he fondled my chones. But I do have a problem with being asked if I had the err-pez 'down there'. I did answer honestly (HELL NO) but was probably as shocked as I've ever been during a conversation at the Can.

Here's hoping you don't have the err-pez down there. And if you do, please remember to take your meds on a daily basis and practice safe funtimes. Eye luve funtimes.

Can't Make Up Stuff This Good

Some of today's headlines are eye catching. Oh, sure, everyone wants to read about Tom DeLay finally getting a brain cell and realizing he has less of a chance of re-election than a rape victim in South Dakota has of finding a doctor to terminate her pregnancy. That said, here are some interesting and thought provoking stories from around the globe:

• The Indian state of Rajasthan is defending a textbook for 14 year old students that vows "A donkey is like a housewife ... In fact, the donkey is a shade better, for while the housewife may sometimes complain and walk off to her parents' home, you'll never catch the donkey being disloyal to his master". My suggestion? Indian boys need not worry about marrying a disloyal wife if they simply buy a donkey. Or a Golden Retriever.
• The same Indian state has found themselves in a bind. Many men are going to have to resort to buying a donkey since the practice of valuing male offspring over female has resulted in a serious decline of available women. The practice of providing a bridal dowry has all but disappeared as the grooms' families are now having to "buy the bride" in an ironic twist of tradition. My thoughts? If they'd taken a little more of a South Dakota approach to pregnancy upon hearing the gender of the fetus, there wouldn't be a shortage of women.
• An interesting story that hit the AP wire today addresses the oddity of rooms for rent in exchange for services. For instance, if you are extremely ticklish and a college student, you can get an almost 50% reduction in rent by living with a gay man in the San Francisco Bay area. What do I think? Hmmm...rooms for free or reduced rent if you provide sex or other services. That is called marriage, folks. What? These are strangers? So are most married people.
• You must have a license to dance in NYC's nightclubs. A 1926 law still on the books regulates dancing by requiring a social hotspot to apply for a cabaret license or risk the cops raiding the posh pad faster than you can say "Stonewall Riots". Yeah? While I do think some people's dancing should be illegal, I don't think a nightclub ought to have to pay the city to allow people to bust a move.
• If you happen to stay up tonight until three seconds after 1:02am and you shorten how you think of this year from 2006 to 06, it will be 01 02 03 04 05 06.

I always love a slow news day.