Unfiltered Story #215974

I used to work in a restaurant right around the corner from a medical network. The county hospital was in the middle of the area, with various surrounding offices and different surgical and specialist doctors. A little less than half a mile from us was a “Rehab and Behavioral Center.” Unfortunately, I deal with depression and had visited with a doctor that had an office there, as an outpatient when I was a young teen. This allowed me to see that the majority of the patients were aggressive and had violent tendencies, schizophrenics that were off thier meds, etc. The doctor that I had met with told me that the center often catered to drug offenders, violent offenders, and people that broke the terms of their probabtion that agreed to plea deals and court ordered therapy and psych evaluations to avoid jail time. The Center was one of the lowest rated in the area, and there was a general sense of unease from the inpatients. Now, I generally try to be very open minded and give others in these types of situations the benefit of the doubt, but this place was just creepy and felt…. off.

So one evening, shortly before closing, I’m standing behind the register helping a short line of customers. The last person in line was wearing a pair of scrub bottoms and an oversized, plain long-sleeved shirt. I didn’t think much of it, as we often have nurses or other medical personnel come in. This customer didn’t order anything, however he asked to use the phone, as he needed to call someone for a ride. I handed it to him, and he had a seat at the bar next to the register.

I could only hear his end of the call, but I heard him explaining to the person on the other side that he had just left the Behavioral Center. He was laughing and describing how he had managed to get his hands on a security card, slip through and get out through the front door, even though he was not scheduled to be released until he met with his doctor, “but [he] ain’t have time for that sh*t.” He asked the person on the other end to pick him up as he did not have his wallet or phone. After a moment, he angrily cursed at the phone and hung up. He then waved me over and handed the phone back to me. As his arm was outstretched, his sleeve pulled up and I saw one of those plastic medical ID bracelets that most hospitals use.

I offered the man a drink and brought him a glass of water. I then pulled my manager into the back kitchen and told him what I had overheard, and that I had noticed his bracelet. My manager asked me to find the number for the Behavioral Center so that he could call them just on the off chance that they had a patient missing.

About 15 minutes later, I was serving a table when I saw another man in scrubs come in and go up to the man still at the bar. They spoke a few words, the second man put his hand on the guy’s shoulder, and they walked out the front door together.

In all, it was just a very odd situation. I never saw either man again, but I hope the guy turned out okay