You know how I’m always joking that the neighbours are going to call CPS/the police on me when I yell at C?
(No, no, they didn’t call the police on me!)
I work as an interpreter these days, and I was recently upgraded from “newbie” to “proper interpreter”, meaning I can now interpret insurance and medical calls.
And 911 calls.
Th first 911 call was nice and easy: someone wanted to get rid of an unstable (read: “certifiably crazy”) roommate. The one from the fire department was downright hilarious: “ma’am, this is the Fire Department, there is a fire on the apartment next to yours” “eh… yeah… I see smoke… but the janitor is there…” The “some women beat me up last week, and they came knocking at my door today” call was baffling.
But then I got a really nasty one.
“Please send the police!”
“What seems to be the problem?”
“The woman across the street is beating her child really badly, I can hear her from my doorstep. (…) She must be hitting him with something, because I hear blows, and the child is screaming horribly. (…) He’s about 5 years old.”
I still get goosebumps just remembering it. *shudder*
The police left for the place immediately, the call ended, and I will never know how it ended, but having heard the real thing was pretty sobering.
So that’s one dumb joke I won’t be making again.
And now excuse me while I go hug C.