My fist came crashing down onto her desk before I knew what I had done. The young lady sitting behind it barely glanced in my direction. Instead she lifted her arm slowly to wave off the police officer presiding over the emergency room. When I glanced over in his directions he was scowling viciously at me, with one hand placed firmly on his gun holster. He nodded at the woman sitting at the receptionist desk in compliance but I had no doubt in my mind that he was contemplating on how to most effectively take me down, swiftly and without revocation on my part. I ignored his presence. I was not going to let his badge nor was I going to let her bad attitude detour me from the mission at hand.
“Ms. I need to get back there into the emergency room. You have got to let me through this door.”
“I don’t have to do anything.”
She said without even looking in my direction. Her total disregard for my presence was eating at my nerves. She had already all but ignored me when I had first approached the receptionist desk; speaking casually on the phone, with some girlfriend of hers, about some television soap opera that she was missing because she was here, at work. You should be happy you have a job with that attitude. I thought to myself. I imagined the ghetto fab female on the other end of the line was sitting in her living room; probably doing some dudes braids and talking very loudly on the phone, as she smacked some worn out peace of gum that she had been chewing on for who knows how long and of course she was screamed at the television in between “oh, Gurl.’ And “yes, bitch.”
But screw the fact that the receptionist ignored me for the first ten minutes that I stood in her face waiting patiently for her to finish her personal phone conversation during business hours, now she was denying me the contact with what was important to me in this world. I wanted to reach across that desk and smack her hard across the face, but I knew I had to keep my composure. Diplomacy was important at times like this. I was getting irrational and belligerent, that wasn’t a good thing for her. Clam down Lavon. I told myself. I took in a deep breath and released my clenched fist. Try again. I heard myself say. With less hostility this time. I heard my inner voice speaking again as I opened my mouth.
“Look madam.” I began slowly. “You said that you have Sidney Prescott here. Right?”
“Yes, I did.” She finally looked away from her desk into my face.
“Well I need to get in there to see him.”
“You might need to, but you ain’t.” She said in that sista girl way.
Look bitch! Is what I wanted to say, but I caught myself before the words could leave my lips. I closed my eyes and concentrated on trying to stay calm.
“Look my name is Lavon Prescott, Sidney is my son.”
“He can’t possibly be your son because his father is already in the emergency room with him. You’re lying sir. The real Mister Prescott is the one who brought Sidney in. So you can’t possibly be his father.”
“Travis. is my husband.” I screamed at her. “We’re Sidney’s parents.”
“Then you can’t be the father, you must be the mother, that’s what you should have said!”
Did this bitch just get indignant with you? I asked myself, and myself said: Yes, yes she did. All of a sudden I lost my sense of diplomacy. I was not going to let this rude ass receptionist try and belittle me in the middle of this emergency waiting room in front of all of these people, I wasn’t going to have it. Especially with my son sitting in some cold examining room without me going through some kind of pain, and this bitch is splitting hairs.
“I am his father you ignorant bitch!” I heard my voice start to elevate. “I give him his bath at night, I feed him, I take care of him. Besides what we call ourselves is no concern of yours.”
“Well Sounds more like you’re the babysitter to me.”
Oh no she didn’t just say that to me!
“Did you just say what I think you said to me?”
“Did I studder.”
She had far exceeded the point of no return. She was no longer just some incompetent miss thing, with bad customer service skills, and a bad weave. Now she was just being down right factious, and might I add she had just insulted me. And still I was standing on this side of the double doors, and my son on the other. Before I knew what I was doing I had reached across that counter and grabbed her by the collar, and the officer was on top of me just as quickly. I heard people shouting and gasping in disbelief. I myself couldn’t believe what I had just done, but I was powerless to stop myself. I felt my head hit the desk, and the officers hand pressing down against the back of my neck. What the fuck had just happened? I heard myself say.
I heard the officer asking the receptionist was she alright, and I could hear her screaming for him to haul my ass off to jail. The whole while I couldn’t help but think about my poor son sick and looking for his dad. I knew that Travis was wondering where I was? And why I hadn’t arrived at the hospital yet. What he didn’t know is that I was here, and I was trying to get to the both of them, but I was being detained by the likes of this boorish police officer and the wicked ghetto bitch of the south.
“Please.” I heard myself saying between heaving breaths. “I need to get into that emergency room. My son is in there! Please!”
I cried out, but do you think that anyone heard me? Of course they didn’t. They didn’t care about my frantic disposition or the about the fact that I was in a panic because Travis had called me and told me that our seven year old son had fallen out of a tree and that they were headed to the hospital. They didn’t care that I was there when My son was born, or that I had never missed a single moment of his life. From the day he was born up until now I had been there for every major event. I was there for his first steps pulling my hair the entire time as he made the four step stride across my mothers living room floor before plopping down on the thick diaper, and when he said his first word travi, as he reached out for Travis to pick him up. It made feel so good that he recognized and loved him like he loved me. And on his first day of preschool how Sidney and Travis cried as the teacher walked Sidney into the class room away from our protective, watchful eyes, but now I was missing probably one of the most harrowing experiences of his young childhood.
I felt like the worst dad in the world, and it was all of their fault that I was disappointing my son for the first time in his life. It was their fault that I could not be there to hold him and to assure him that everything would be alright. It was their fault that I wasn’t there to let Sidney know that both of his dad’s would always be there whenever he needed us. It was all they’re fault. I was angry, I was hurt, I could feel a peace of me was dying as I laid there helpless and at the mercy of such stupidity. I couldn’t have been in any more pain if they had simply strung me up by my legs and cut out my stomach. It would have been better had the officer just shot me. At least then I would be headed through those double doors and closer to my son and husband who were both waiting for me.
