Something new under the sun
Nov. 9th, 2015 04:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lydySo, the other night, I was working alone. It was about four in the morning, and neither of my patients was on CPAP and both were sleeping soundly. While I do need to continue careful monitoring, it doesn't require huge amounts of brainpower. Which is a long way of saying, I'm a little bored.
The phone rings. This pretty much never happens. The very few times it has happened, it's been someone with a very old phone list who is trying to reach the Neuro nurse on duty. Our number hasn't been Neuro's for a long time, but old phone lists never die, they just get put in file drawers for misuse at a later date.
I answer the phone, cheerfully, with "Sleep Lab."
"Oh, good," says a very soft, male voice. "It was very hard to reach you. I had problems with the switchboard."
It's four in the morning. The male voice is soft, tentative, and urgent. I used to work as a receptionist for a massage parlor. I know exactly what kind of call this is. I could just hang up on him. I could tell him I know what he's doing. But I'm a) bored, and b) curious, so I decide to play it straight.
He asks if I'm a sleep technologist. I admit that I am. I note that he knows my proper title, so he's done some research. He's looking for something specific. I wonder what it is. He gets his cover story out of the way quickly, something about his doctor referring him for a study, etc. Then he wants to know exactly what the procedure will be. If I hadn't already twigged, the word "exactly" would have told me. I still don't know exactly what he's looking for. But the nice young man has a fetish. If I had to guess, it would be the camera watching him sleep, but I'm playing it straight.
I describe the timing of studies, the check-in procedure, the rooms, and start to describe the set-up. "We put nine wires on your head, six on your face, two on your chest, four on your legs, chest and abdomen bands, and -- " he interrupts me. He wants to know about the wires on the head. I describe using a China marker to determine placement. He's a little interested in this, but more interested in the wires and their application. I explain that we typically use nine, but some set-ups require fifteen. He asks if that's counting the wires on the face. I say no, and explain the placement of the wires on the face (one by each eye, on the the forehead, three on the chin) but he's not interested in that. So we've narrowed down his fetish.
He wants to know how I apply the wires. He asks if I use hair to hold them in place. This is an interestingly specific question. I tell him that I, personally, don't, but that some techs do. There's some very specific questions about the cotton patches that are used to hold the wires in place. I explain the difference between glue (which we don't use) and paste, which we do. This goes on for a while. He's very hard to hear, he's practically whispering. He's not panting, though, so that's a plus. Possibly he's saving that for later. Finally, he asks me the money question: "And, could I put a wire on you, just to see what it's like to put a wire on someone?"
"No, absolutely not." Now, if I'd been being paid for this conversation, then I would have said yes, and gone into loving detail about my long, brown hair, and the best way to use it to help hold the paste in place and...but I'm not being paid. Also, I'm playing this completely straight, and no way am I letting someone put paste in my hair early in my work day, which I couldn't wash out until I got home. Besides, this game is getting a little boring, and now I know what he's after.
He thanks me, politely, and asks if he can request me, specifically. I tell him, yes, of course, my name is Lydia. And now I know to look for anyone who requests me specifically who hasn't worked with me before. ("Forewarned is forearmed, and four-armed is half-octopus, and who wants to be that?")
I text my co-worker who's at a different lab, that night. Figure she might end up with a call from him, might be useful to know. She says that she's pretty sure he's called previously, and talked to one of the other techs. That figures.
A fetish for EEG wires. Ok, then. Rule 34 rules, I guess.
The phone rings. This pretty much never happens. The very few times it has happened, it's been someone with a very old phone list who is trying to reach the Neuro nurse on duty. Our number hasn't been Neuro's for a long time, but old phone lists never die, they just get put in file drawers for misuse at a later date.
I answer the phone, cheerfully, with "Sleep Lab."
"Oh, good," says a very soft, male voice. "It was very hard to reach you. I had problems with the switchboard."
It's four in the morning. The male voice is soft, tentative, and urgent. I used to work as a receptionist for a massage parlor. I know exactly what kind of call this is. I could just hang up on him. I could tell him I know what he's doing. But I'm a) bored, and b) curious, so I decide to play it straight.
He asks if I'm a sleep technologist. I admit that I am. I note that he knows my proper title, so he's done some research. He's looking for something specific. I wonder what it is. He gets his cover story out of the way quickly, something about his doctor referring him for a study, etc. Then he wants to know exactly what the procedure will be. If I hadn't already twigged, the word "exactly" would have told me. I still don't know exactly what he's looking for. But the nice young man has a fetish. If I had to guess, it would be the camera watching him sleep, but I'm playing it straight.
I describe the timing of studies, the check-in procedure, the rooms, and start to describe the set-up. "We put nine wires on your head, six on your face, two on your chest, four on your legs, chest and abdomen bands, and -- " he interrupts me. He wants to know about the wires on the head. I describe using a China marker to determine placement. He's a little interested in this, but more interested in the wires and their application. I explain that we typically use nine, but some set-ups require fifteen. He asks if that's counting the wires on the face. I say no, and explain the placement of the wires on the face (one by each eye, on the the forehead, three on the chin) but he's not interested in that. So we've narrowed down his fetish.
He wants to know how I apply the wires. He asks if I use hair to hold them in place. This is an interestingly specific question. I tell him that I, personally, don't, but that some techs do. There's some very specific questions about the cotton patches that are used to hold the wires in place. I explain the difference between glue (which we don't use) and paste, which we do. This goes on for a while. He's very hard to hear, he's practically whispering. He's not panting, though, so that's a plus. Possibly he's saving that for later. Finally, he asks me the money question: "And, could I put a wire on you, just to see what it's like to put a wire on someone?"
"No, absolutely not." Now, if I'd been being paid for this conversation, then I would have said yes, and gone into loving detail about my long, brown hair, and the best way to use it to help hold the paste in place and...but I'm not being paid. Also, I'm playing this completely straight, and no way am I letting someone put paste in my hair early in my work day, which I couldn't wash out until I got home. Besides, this game is getting a little boring, and now I know what he's after.
He thanks me, politely, and asks if he can request me, specifically. I tell him, yes, of course, my name is Lydia. And now I know to look for anyone who requests me specifically who hasn't worked with me before. ("Forewarned is forearmed, and four-armed is half-octopus, and who wants to be that?")
I text my co-worker who's at a different lab, that night. Figure she might end up with a call from him, might be useful to know. She says that she's pretty sure he's called previously, and talked to one of the other techs. That figures.
A fetish for EEG wires. Ok, then. Rule 34 rules, I guess.
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no subject
Date: 2015-11-09 11:45 pm (UTC)The thing that made this such a fun read is that you twigged immediately as to the nature of the call and, by continuing it, consented. Now since you were playing it straight, he didn't know you consented, so he's still a creep, but, as you said, he wasn't panting. And, until the money question, he was keeping it pretty non-personal, too.
Him asking if you use hair to hold the wires in place certainly points to the fact that it wasn't his first conversation with a sleep tech, and that at least one other tech answered his questions in detail. Probably more, I'm inclined to think.
no subject
Date: 2015-11-10 02:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-11-10 04:31 am (UTC)Abi twigged to that instantly (despite being about 17 at the time) because prior to Sears...she worked for Famous Footwear.
no subject
Date: 2015-11-10 05:31 am (UTC)Possibly one of the reasons I thought the whole thing was funny was because he was trying so hard to be creepy, and I wasn't creeped Just curious and amused. But he didn't know he had my consent. Does that mean I was engaged in nonconsensual behavior, because his kink is probably predicated on my not consenting? Hmm, conundrums.
no subject
Date: 2015-11-10 05:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-11-10 05:33 am (UTC)At the parlor we used to have one guy who always called in with story about his wife being nine months pregnant and unable to, you know... Last count, his wife had been nine months pregnant for about two years. He was always cordially invited to come to the parlor so that we could, you know...
no subject
Date: 2015-11-10 02:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-11-10 09:44 pm (UTC)Enquiring minds want to know? Well only in a theoretical way. But how to phrase them so that he doesn't twig that Lydy's already twigged? That could be tricky, and possibly rude.