“Paging Dr. Coop, you’re assistance is needed fuckin stat,” Cooper made his way into the examine room, pulling out a pair of blue latex gloves, as he talked to himself. It was nearly noon, meaning his early morning shift was so so close to being done. Not his usual gig, but when Sasha called out, he couldn’t say no. She was dealing with shit and it wasn’t like he needed sleep. He was a god damn shark. “It’s urgent, Sissy Pitsky is in dire need surgery and YOU are her only hope,” Sleep was for the weak and he put on his gloves, grabbed the next patient’s charts and leaned into the hall, grinning as his co-workers mulled around like zombies.
“QUICK. SEND IN THE PATIENT,” He was met with an eye roll. Not unusual.
“Jesus, Coop, I’m not--”
“Come on, Ray, PLEASE,” Cooper said with a small pout, offering the other tech the chart. “Commit to the bit, just once, and I’ll take a shift for you next week,” There was a moment’s pause and a thick sigh. Oh yeah. Fuckin sold.
“Saturday. Midnight to 9am,”
“Deal,”
Fuckin putty, that one. Then again, everyone in the clinic was. It was a chill place and yeah, not everyone appreciated his antics, they tolerated it, which was more than enough for him. As Ray disappeared down the hall, Cooper pulled the extra copy of the chart and sat it on the counter, busying himself with gathering the usual. He had time to pause and check his reflection in the large metal table, adjusting the collar of his teal scrubs, as he heard Ray’s voice and the muffled sounds of another. Here we go, doctor, don’t fuck it up. He stood straight, plastering on his best ‘trust-me-i-have-good-teeth’ smile. “Mornin’, I’m Coo--” he began as someone was ushered in, but his words cut off as his jaw all but fucking dropped.
“Goodie?! No fuckin way,” @calgoodie
