How to Lose Your AAA Pass

You are an important person in the University, a Sabbatical Officer in fact.  It’s Freshers’ Week, you were involved in organising it, and you are pretty used to mostly getting your own way.  You’re also drunk, and have been issued an AAA Pass (AAA stands for Access All Areas).  This already is a bad combination.

I’m trying to treat one of the Freshers’ Crew (who are responsible for looking after the freshers in a specific area of campus accommodation).  He’s drunk, needs to sleep it all off, and I’m trying to gather enough information to arrange for him to get home.  He’s in his brightly coloured Crew top, so it’s fairly obvious that he’s a crew member, and I’m in my green and yellow hi-vis, so it’s pretty obvious I’m a medic.  It’s also very obvious that I’m treating you (or should be, to anyone vaguely sober).

“Is he alright?”  You come swaggering up.  “Bob?  You okay?”  (Yes, I know Bob is a very bad fake name!)

“He’ll be fine.  Are you his friend?”  I reply.

“Mmmwwaaa?”  Adds Bob.

“Are you okay Bob?”

“He’ll be fine.  He’s just drunk.”  I try to get your attention back to me.  “Do you know him?”

“He’s one of the crew members.  [As if the big words Freshers Crew on his T-Shirt wasn’t obvious enough].  What’s wrong?”

“He’s just drunk.  Are you friends?”

“No.  No.  He’s a crew member.”

I’m definitely getting the idea that you’re drunk now.  “Okay, in that case I need you to leave us some room, please go stand over there.”  I know there’s no point telling you to go away, but I hope I can send you far enough away that you leave out of boredom.  You standing right next to me is hardly good for patient confidentiality, particularly as you strike me the type to want to take photos, and anyway, I’ve always found that drunk + crowd = trouble.

“No, no.  That’s okay.  I want to make sure he’s okay.”

“Really, he’s going to be fine.  We’re just going to get him home, and he’ll sleep it off.  All he’ll have is a hangover tomorrow morning.  Please, just give us some space.”

“No, no. I want to make sure he’s okay.”

“Look.  There’s nothing you can do here.  Please, go away, you’re now getting in my way and preventing me from treating him.”

“I’m not going away.  I want to make sure he’s okay.”

I’m getting rather irritated now.  “Please.  Go away.  You are not helping, and I will have you removed if I have to.”

“Do you know who I am?  [I’m not making this up!]  I am a Sabb!  I have a triple-A!”

I’m now seething.  “Right.  And I have two.  [I do.  One as a First Aider, one as backstage crew.]  But that makes no difference.  I need you to go.  Now, before I call for security.”

“I can go where I like.  I’m a Sabb and I have a triple-A.”

“Right.”  I’ve had enough.  You have now held me up for too many minutes.  I might have had Bob on his way home by now, if you hadn’t turned up with your triple-A.  I turn my back on you, ensuring I’m standing between you and Bob, and get out my radio.  “Control, from 444 over.”

“Yeah, go ahead 444, over”

“Hi Control.  Can you send someone from security out to me.  I have a Sabb with a pass I need removing, over.”

“Err, say again 444, over.”

“I have a Sabb I need Security to remove for me please, over.”

“Err… All received 444.  They’ll be over in a minute, over.”

“Many thanks, 444 standing by.”

You haven’t heard what Control had to say, but what you get the gist from my side.  “How dare you!  I’m a Sabb!  I have a pass!  You can’t do this.”

Over your shoulder, I see the head of security (a diminutive Welsh lady best described as a force of nature), and her assistant manager (a bulky man twice her size) heading my way.  I nod at you, and they nod back.  “I already have.”  I turn back to Bob, who should have been the centre of my attention for the last few minutes.  Behind me I hear you being removed, and when I chance a look while moving around my patient, I see your AAA go in to one of their pockets.  Hopefully that’ll teach you not to but out next time when you are politely asked.

Needless to say, I had a lot of explaining to do once I got back to the First Aid post. I also got an apology from the Sabbs the next day, and even if I hadn’t, the look on your face when you had to hand over your AAA was well worth the aggro.


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About The WalkingPlasterDispenser

So who is the Walking Plaster Dispenser? Well, I'm a volunteer First Aider, working with a well-known First Aid charity to help out random people I've never met before (or, more usually, when) they hurt themselves. This typically involves walking briskly (never run...) around after people who are silly enough to do sports or some other suitably daft activity in their free time. In my spare time, I am a graduate engineer, working my way through a graduate scheme with a big engineering company.

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