Humor: Someone always pays in this user-pays world

Someone always pays in this user-pays world

"Come in, George," said the managing director, ushering the ambulance driver into his office. "Sit down. We need to talk."

George knew something was up.
Why else would have he been called to the big office again?

Mr Bigknob, the managing director, took a bundle of papers out of his top left-hand drawer and plonked them on the desk in front of George.
There must have been a hundred or more.
They were secured together in a rubber band and came down on the desk with a small thud.

"Do you know what all these are, George?" asked the managing director.

"I hope they're not more speeding signs," said George, horrified. "I've tried very hard to stick to the speed limit this past month, honestly Mr Bigknob, what with all those expensive infringements last month."

"Ah, yes, I appreciate that effort, George," said the managing-director, smiling through gritted teeth.
"But there does seem to be a new problem. A very distressing problem."

"I can't think what," said George.

"Parking tickets, George, parking tickets."
Mr Bigknob slipped the infringement notices out of the rubber band and poured them on the desk. "I've never seen so many parking tickets."

"Neither have I," said George, looking as if he had seen a ghost.
"Are they all mine?"

"Yes," said Mr Bigknob, looking heavenwards, though all he saw was a single-bulb light-bulb swinging frugally. "Every single one. Ninety-seven of them. And all from the past month. How the hell did you get so many?"

"I don't know," said George. "I was probably picking up patients."

"Um, yes. that's one plausible explanation, George. But there is one little problem. I have been looking at your log books and, how do I say this, you've only picked up five patients in the past month. How do you account for the other 92 parking tickets?"

"I have no idea," said George.

"That's becoming more and more apparent to me, George," Mr Bigknob said.

"But I did save a lot on petrol, and speeding fines, just like you asked last month, didn't I?" said George, breaking into a smile.

Mr Bigknob glanced at his records on the desktop. "Un, yes," he said. "That would seem to be the case. Er, well done on that front, George, but ..."

"It's very difficult, Mr Bigknob. I don't see what else I can do," said George.

"Let's analyse it, shall we?" said the managing-director. "Tell me how you approach a normal working day."

"Well," said George. "I get up, clean my teeth ..."

"Um, no, we can skip all that," said Mr Bigknob, coughing. "Just take it from when you arrive at work first thing."

"I take the newspaper to the dunny and do the crossword," said George.

"In work time!" cried Mr Bigknob.
He always despaired when he heard things like that.
Since the ambulance service was privatised and he was appointed to head up the company, he had urged his workers to tighten their belts and tourniquets, and adopt good work practices that would enhance the company's bottom line and share holding.
Going to the toilet in working hours was bad enough but he could live with it. Doing crosswords in cubicles one, two or three was just not on.

"I've only started taking the newspaper in since the company cut back on toilet paper," George said. "You never know when two down, one up might come in handy."

"Tell me about the road, George, the road," said Mr Bigknob, changing the subject quickly. "What do you do when you have finished your morning ablutions?"

"I normally take the ambulance out and park it on the High Street," said George.

"You what!"

"I used to wait at the station until we got a call but Mr Bigknob you said two months ago you wanted us to be more proactive.
"So I started taking the ambulance out each day, driving around and around looking for sick and injured people.
"That's how I got all those speeding fines and used up all that petrol, and I rarely found anyone anyway.
"So I decided to stay in the station again.
"Only trouble was, the two-way radio is on the blink. It's only one-way now, and all we can pick up is FM104.6.
"That's when I had the idea of parking on the High Street every day and walking around trying to drum up some trade."

"Goodness gracious, man," said Mr Bigknob. "That's appalling. You drive an ambulance, you don't hawk watermelons. What would the newspapers and the people who think that ambulance services should stay in public control think?"

"I thought you'd be pleased," George said. "If the number of patients we carry each month is down, that must mean we are doing our job extra well, right?"

Mr Bigknob just rolled his eyes.
"Didn't you think to put money in the meter?"

"There is never any money in petty cash. I have to fill in three forms just to get a few dollars advance," protested George.

"You must have had some inkling that you were getting all these parking tickets, George?"

"No, why would I," said George. "I just assumed that ambulances were exempt."

"No, no, no, not any more," said Mr Bigknob. "It's user-pays everywhere now. Everyone has to pay their way.
"You must have known something was wrong. Didn't you find a whole lot of little yellow notes under the windscreen wipers all the time?"

"Yes," said George, the penny dropping. "Were they parking tickets?"

"I would think so," said Mr Bigknob. "What did you think they were?"

"Hate mail," said George. "I always threw them away without reading them."

"Hate mail? Why could you be getting hate mail?"

"Everyone out there seems to hate us," said George.

"Hate us? Why would they hate us?"

NB: I called this site Dunno because I kept drawing a blank when I had to put a name to it