A drugged sleep later, I open my eyes, ready to feast on the sight of the sex goddess in a uniform.
“Farrrk!” I swear, and close my eyes tight.
I crack open a lid.
Bloody crap. I’m not seeing things. A large, hairy male with a larger scowl is staring at me menacingly. I slap myself in the head, except I’m still restrained and I just manage to bang my wrist against the bed.
“NO. FUNNY. BUSINESS!” he says originally. Fuckwit.
“Sorry, sir,” I say humbly. “Ummm… why are you here?”
He stares menacingly again. Right. A talker. On the bright side, he’s not beating me up OR wrapping me in bubble wrap and chucking me in the river. So why’m I wishing he was?
I close my eyes. But now I know that he’s there, staring at me. Nah, I’m getting paranoid… he’s gonna be reading or sleeping or ogling the nurses or something. I crack open an eyelid – and he’s staring at me. Menacingly, of course.
“Would you mind calling a nurse, please, sir?” I ask in my best arse-licking voice, “I need to… ahh… pee.”
He sneers and motions toward my catheter bag.
“Oh, look at that!” I say pathetically, and sigh. I’m stuffed.