It was one of the those mornings after a hellacious night shift that we just needed to drink like normal dayshift people tend to do after work. Apparently it's called happy hour? For us it's called find the bars and restaurants that will serve alcohol at 0800.
Drinking ensues. Yelling ensues. Other customers leave their breakfasts behind in a rush to get away from stories of blood on the ceiling, guts falling out of dehisced incisions, and poop on shoes. Fast forward to May being pretty drunk after this breakfast "happy hour." Or totally passed out. Whatever.
Ellie: "May... May!! Wake up!"
May: Non-sensical grumbling
Ellie: "May... wake up. At least take your shoes and bloody scrubs off before you pass out!"
May: grumble, grumble
Me: "Whatever, let her sleep on the floor..."
Then May sits bolt upright, eyes still closed, pointing a finger at us.
May: "Charge to 200!"
Us: "What??"
May: "CLEAR!!!" falls back over, passed out
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