November 17th 2014

The big day that I mentioned in yesterday's entry. First Aid training at a place where none of the trained know what they are doing. The first time I went through training I was willing to learn but this time I just wanted to go home. 

November 17, 2014: I am at CPR training for the second, and hopefully final, time at the Art Museum. Before class starts I am writing in this notepad like usual. However my plan is to skip every other line to make it seem like I am taking notes. It’s the only way to get through this. I don’t think Knucklehead cares really but I am gonna put on one hell of an acting job. I think the CPR infant dolls have the same diapers as they did two year ago. That would explain why Knucklehead’s son is such an asshole I guess. Well it appears, at the moment, that it’s going to be a three person class. (Redacted) just showed up and decided to sit over at the other table away from me and Sticks. Either she just does not like white people or it was an issue with room. I am guessing it’s the latter because I sat away from Sticks for more room too.

It’s National Novel Writing Month. There are other places I would rather be right now. Well it’s just three of us, God willing I’ll be out of here by two. I’m not changing the time in the pay book. Oh God I’m getting sleepy! This coffee is the only thing keeping me going. This is more boring than I thought. Got to keep my mind going. These shit jokes and anecdotes are like kryptonite! 

After the excruciating AED training I brought up a “what if” and asked Knucklehead why a gurney could not be carried up the Old Entrance stairs. He of course avoided the question by mentioning that firefighters (first responders) do not have a gurney on their truck. That's not the answer I was looking for. No matter who gets there first the issue was that A.J. was taken THROUGH the building. He says he’s Type-2 diabetic. If that’s true he should have known better with Joe and A.J.His attitude was more somber after that. He knew what I was getting at. 

We got out of there around 2PM, like Knucklehead said we would. I did not change my entry in the paysheet book. His boyfriend Mr. Ass probably will though, fucker…

I handled the First Aid training like I use to handle elementary school. Pay enough attention to get through the end of the day and dream about getting the hell out of there so I could breath fresh air.