typea_all (14 page)

     After work, I needed some relaxation, and something special for Jerry, so I went shopping. I drove up to the mall and made my first stop at Wagner's Gifts. Wagner's is one of those places that are full of tricks, dirty statues, and strange lights.

     "Do you have anything that smells bad?" I asked.  The girl behind the counter was chewing gum and polishing her nails, which for her was probably an amazing act of coordination.

     "We have smelly candles."

     "I'm really looking for some gag perfume. Something that smells very bad."

     "Nothing like that, but we do have fart spray."  Music to my ears. "It's over there, behind the penis-shaped candles." Gee, I should have guessed.

     Sure enough, they had an entire shelf with stuff labeled Phart Spray, with a large sign on top that said "Do not use in the store."  Made by some company in Pittsburgh, the label said it was perfect to play tricks on your friends and get back at smokers in restaurants.

     I bought three cans of the stuff, one penis candle, and one penis-shaped ice cube tray. You never know when you had to do some fine entertaining.

     Before I did anything else, I thought that I should test out the spray, to make sure it worked. I didn't want something that just smelled a little, I wanted something that smelled very bad. I wanted something that reeked, smelled disgusting, something that smelled worse than Rossini and Lipschitz put together.

     In case the stuff really did smell, I didn't want to spray it in the mall, but I wanted to test it before going home, so I could return it if it wasn't bad enough.  So I walked over to the restrooms and found an empty stall. Then I thought, what if I spray it and the stuff gets on me? I'd have to walk through the mall smelling like a diaper.

     I hung around a few minutes until the place emptied out. When I was alone, I stood outside one of the stalls, got up on the top of my toes, and sprayed the stuff for a few seconds. Nothing. I didn't smell a thing. Maybe I needed some more. 

     I sprayed another few seconds. Still nothing. Either Wagner's sells defective farts or the ventilation in this place was miraculous. I put the can back in the bag and pulled opened the stall door, only to stand face-to-face with this oily cloud of the worse smelling stuff I ever sniffed. God, it was awful, disgusting, and terrible. I was so happy.

     I closed the door, but I could still smell it, certain that it was on me. Just then the restroom door opened and an older woman walked in. She stopped a few feet into the bathroom, wrinkled up her nose and looked straight at me.

     "Don't get the tacos in the food court," I said as I walked past her and out into the mall.

     Since I was having so much success shopping, I figured I'd splurge on myself at the body and bath store. Not that I wanted to buy anything special, but I needed one final test, and I wanted to spray myself to get rid of the smell. As I walked to the store I noticed a few people look at me, and a path somehow developed all around me.

     When I got to the store, the usually friendly little girls that hand out baskets backed away, but still smiled. They were properly trained.

     I grabbed the first sample spray bottle that I saw and, trying to look casual, sprayed most of myself. That fart stuff was terrific; I could still smell it over the Apple Blossom. Must be something in the oil that makes it stick. I sprayed a little more Apple Blossom until the order was a little better, then I bought a few little soaps and a bottle of the Apple Blossom spray.

     Since I was feeling so good, and smelling a little better, I strolled through the mall, looking in some store windows and getting a salad for dinner at the food court. I didn't buy anything else because my cash was getting low, and I was saving some money for another pair of earrings.

     When I started to feel tired, I drove home and did my usual nightly routine. Before going to bed, however, I called Adam to remind him about tomorrow. He didn't pick up the phone so I left a message.

     "Hi Adam. Be at the lab by 12. Remember, wear something that you can change out of easily and bring a pair of rubber gloves."

Chapter 13

     On Tuesday, I put on my Artist Arugula earrings – large painter's pallets with dangling brushes and tubes of paint. When it comes to getting back at arrogant, thoughtless asses, I'm an artist. Like I said, I didn't start this, Jerry Odem did, but I'm certainly going to finish it.

     I packed a bag with an extra set of scrubs, a stethoscope that I bought a long, long time ago, and a laboratory medicine magazine I had lying around. I put the Phart Spray into a plastic bag, tied it tightly, and then in a paper bag. I didn't want any of the smell to escape into the lab.

     When I got to work, I asked Joan if it was okay for me to take a late lunch, at 1 PM. It was fine with her.

     Adam walked in at about noon. I gave him the set of scrubs and the stethoscope and told him to change in the restroom. They didn't fit him real well, they were a little tight and somewhat short, but he'd pass if you didn't look at him too long. I told him to wait in the lobby until my lunch break. When I went out into the lobby, Adam was sitting in one of those tiny little chairs they have for children, reading a book to a girl about 4 years old.

     I gave him my identification badge that hangs around the neck, but put it on backwards so my picture didn't show. I mean, he wouldn't pass for a doctor, but he'd be able to get where he had to be with no trouble.

     This whole plan depended on timing. My goal was to avoid any collateral damage, but some non-combatant casualties might not be avoided.

     We walked into the hospital and I sent Adam into the locker room. He followed my instructions to the letter.

     He took one bottle of disinfectant soap, poured half out, and sprayed one entire bottle of Phart Spray into it.  He then did the same with a bottle of cologne. He then put both bottles into a bag.

     We then started patrolling the hospital until we spotted Jerry Odem. The pompous ass was leaning against a wall, flirting with a young volunteer. I pointed him out to Adam, who then took the magazine and started looking at the pictures a few feet away.

As we were waiting for Jerry to finish flirting, two interns walked by discussing a patient.

     "I’ve tried everything for the high eosinophilia, all the usual stuff, even adrenal insufficiency, trichinosis, and dermatitis herpetiformis."

     "Did you consider Sarcoidosis?"

     "That too. The guy came back from vacation and just collapsed."

     Adam tapped one of them on the shoulder. "If he was overseas, did you consider Loa Loa?"

"What was that?" one of the interns asked.

"Loa Loa. From the tropical areas of Africa where horse flies are the main vector. The microfilaia has a sheath that is negative to the Giesma stain."

     "You know," the other intern said, "I think he did stop in Africa briefly on his cruise. I remember him saying something about that."

     "Thanks Dr..."

     "Dr. Helmint," Adam told them.

     "Thanks, we’ll look into that," and they walked away talking about parasites.

     "How’d you know all that?" I asked him.

     "I don’t know. Maybe I read it somewhere."

******

     I waited until Jerry finished his conversation and then casually walked past him.

     "She looked too young and smart for you," I said.

     "They're never too young, you loser."

     "Oh, I'm sorry. You're the big supervisor now."

     "Not yet, but I will be."

     "That's right, I forgot. Did you have the interview yet? Did they laugh in your face?"

     "Soon, and they won't laugh."

     "They will if you go the way you are now."

     "What do you mean by that?"

     "You smell. Were you changing bed pans or something?"

     "You can't psych me out. I smell great."

     "Okay, you smell great. I should have known better than to try to fool you. Just go right in there the way you are."

     "I will"

     "Good luck."

     By that time, Adam had returned to the locker room and hidden all of the bottles of disinfectant soap and cologne, except two. Those he put in the corner, out of the way. He then placed our two special bottles on the counter and hung around. If someone other than Jerry came in, he was to somehow get them to use the good bottles in the corner.

     Adam had one other job. When Jerry did come in, Adam was to keep him occupied as long as possible. Okay, so this part of the plan wasn't that well thought out, but the overall plot was terrific. I knew Adam could confuse anyone for at least ten minutes, and Jerry just wasn't that smart.

     I ran down the stairs and hid myself out of sight, but where I could see the locker room entrance. I waited a few minutes, but no sign of Jerry. After a few minutes more I started to worry. Maybe I was slipping. I thought for sure Jerry would think about it a minute or two, and then come down to the locker room to freshen up. Adam would keep him busy until after spraying himself with Phart Spray, it was too late for Jerry to do anything but go right up to his appointment.

     I waited a few minutes more, and was about to give up and retrieve Adam, when Jerry walked past my hiding place.  The timing couldn't have been better. When Jerry walked into the locker room, I sneaked over so I could hear what was going on.

     "Hey," Jerry greeting Adam.

     "Hi."

     I heard water running.

     "You new around here?" he asked Adam. "Haven't seen you before."

     "I am new. Temporary, actually. Just filling in."

"That's good," Jerry said.

"Did you know that there is an African slug whose slime is so thick that it hangs six feet down from tree branches? Some Germans mix the slime with sugar and make syrup call Schneckensirup?"

     Adam was doing fine. Jerry was too self-absorbed to even think about what Adam was saying. I heard some more noises from inside and then "Christ! What is this stuff?"

     "That's disinfectant soap. You just put it all over your face."

     "I know I did," Jerry yelled. "Can't you smell it? It's terrible."

     "I don't smell anything."  I love that guy. He must be gagging under his breath, but he's holding it all together.

     "It smells like shit."

     "Try a little more, maybe there was something wrong with the stuff on top of the bottle."

     "Okay.  God, it all smells like that."

     "I'll tell you the truth," Adam said.  I got worried.  "I can't smell anything. Just put on some of that cologne."

     "It smells the same way! I just splashed more shit on my face."

     "Here, let me see."  Adam must have gone over closer to Jerry. "Smells like the usual stuff they have here."

     "Nothing usual about this shit."  I heard a lot of water. "The smell's not washing off, either. I have two minutes to get to my interview and I smell like shit!"  More water.

     "I'm telling you the truth,” Adam said. “It smells fine. It must be something up your nose. On the outside you smell great. Just splash on a little more cologne and go to your interview."

     "Are you sure I smell okay? I can't stand it."

     "You smell fine. Just go to your interview."

     "What did you say your name was?"

     "I'm Sam. Sam Anosmia."

     I heard someone take towels from the dispenser, and I hurried back to my hiding spot.  Jerry came out of the locker room, holding a piece of paper over his nose.

     About 20 seconds later, Adam ran out, choking and laughing all at the same time.

     "I'm gonna throw up."

     "That was wonderful. You were terrific.
     "Really, I have to throw up. Right now."

     "Go back into the locker room."

     "No way am I going back in there."

     We found an empty room that had a sink, and Adam took care of his problem.  He stopped choking, but couldn't stop laughing. "He smelled so bad. You'd think he fell into the toilet."

     "Did he really believe you when you told him he didn't smell?"

     "Not at first, but I think he was desperate to get to the interview."

We took a long walk outside getting back to the outpatient lab. Both of us smelled kind of funky, but the breeze and my Apple Blossom spray did a good job of dispersing it.

When we got back to lab, Adam changed back into his own clothes. I put the scrubs in a plastic bag that I sealed tightly. I put the cans of Phart Spray into another plastic bag; this stuff was just too good to get rid of. I had the soap bottle that we had doctored, but not the cologne.

     "Adam, do you have the cologne bottle?"

     "Didn't I give it to you?"

     "No"

     "I don't have it."

     "Oh no. You must have left it in the locker room. That's terrible. Someone else will get it."

     Then we started laughing again.

     I slept real well that night, feeling that I accomplished something good for all womankind and hospital patients. If I stopped Jerry from getting that promotion, I did the hospital a favor. I only woke up twice during the night from hot spells, and actually still had my nightgown on in the morning.

******

     On Wednesday, I was just dying to find out what happened to Jerry Odem. I didn't want to take a direct approach, because I didn't want Jerry to know I was involved, so I called the personnel department.

     "Hi, I called last week. I was supposed to get a recommendation to personnel for Jerry Odem but I never made it. Is it too late?"

     "Who did you say you were?" 

     "A nurse on three."

     "What's your name?"

     They're getting smarter. I hung up.

     Instead of going to lunch or getting coffee during my breaks, I strolled around the hospital trying to find Jerry Odem. I had no idea what I would say to him, but I was hoping the right words would find their way out of my mouth.

At one time, I heard "Dr. Helmint" being paged to call a Dr. Secouler, and I wondered if Adam's advice was correct or not. About fifteen minutes later I heard another page for "Dr. Helmint" and I couldn't hold myself back.  I found a phone, dialed the operator, and asked to be connected to Dr. Secouler.

"Hello, Dr. Secouler. I heard several pages for Dr. Helmint."

"That's correct," he said.

"I think he left the building. I'll be seeing him later this afternoon; can I give him a message?"