You’re The Worst Neighbor As I Live And Breathe

(I have called Emergency Services for an ambulance to get my elderly father to hospital, having suffered a serious and life-endangering attack of illness. The ambulance comes, and the medics immediately go up to start work on him. I hear a call from downstairs. My father’s next-door neighbour has wandered in.)

Next-Door Neighbour: “Is there something going on? I need to get my car out.”

Me: “Yes, [Father] has been taken seriously ill, and the medics are working on him now to stabilise him before getting him to hospital.”

Next-Door Neighbour: “Well, can you get one of them to move the ambulance? He’s parked across my driveway and I need to get my car out.”

(I look, and indeed, the ambulance is parked so as to slightly compromise his access.)

Me: “Well, I’ll ask them, but I doubt they’ll be able to interrupt what they’re doing. He’s seriously ill.”

Next-Door Neighbour: “So, what are you doing here anyway?”

Me: “I drove up here last night from [My Home Town] as he told me last night he wasn’t feeling well.”

Next-Door Neighbour: “Why did you have to come from [My Home Town]? Isn’t there someone closer he could have called?”

Me: “I’m his son.”

Next-Door Neighbour: “Oh. Well, can you move the ambulance?”

Me: “No. Sorry.”

Next-Door Neighbour: “Oh. But I need to get my car out.”

(Five minutes later he had indeed managed to get his car out, as the gap they had left was adequate. The ambulance driver apologised for having parked carelessly, but he remarked that he thought it was more important to just get there. In case anyone’s interested, after an hour of work, an oxygen cylinder, and a good deal of saline, they got him onto the ambulance and into hospital where a considerable amount of further work was done, including a blood transfusion and an emergency operation, and by the next day he was declared “stable.”)