Mean Streets

I was amid my lunchtime shuffle around the borough, when I passed a woman mooching around by a zebra crossing adjacent to the hospital. She was in some kind of paramedic/ambulance drivers uniform, but looked a little scruffy, and—in the way she was just stood there—a little bit indolent, like a failed lollipop lady.*

However, as I passed her she proved to be truly rewarding when the radio receiver to which she was listening crackled forth the following:

"Are You Bleeding? What is your physical, er, condition?"

Reluctant to intrude by stopping, I heard no more, and I therefore unable to furnish you with any further details.

Thus my day was brightened.

*I can imagine the ceremony that accomplanies the shaming of a disgraced lollipop lady. The disgracee stands forlornly bereft, witnessed by a group of schoolchildren, as the Head of Zebra Crossings breaks the lollipop over his thigh. I'm sure there's something like this on YouTube somewhere.