I have a love-hate relationship with the "Senior Behavioral Unit" or whatever it stands for in the hospital. We call it "SBH" - senior behavioral hoochie? Anyway, its where the house all the deranged old people in the hospital. I have to visit them every so often to deliver medicines or record temperatures and stuff.

Usually I dread coming down there because of all the eccentric old people. But on Saturday I was greeted by a very nice patient. I don't know her name. Her hair was thinning yet still clung to its color, a brownish red with dark roots probably because she dyes her hair. She had those big 80 style glasses and she was dressed in grey sweats with a Christmas sweater on. She was walking around on the floor and passed me while I was waiting for a nurse to be free and sign in drugs with me. She comes around, faces me and says :

"Are you a volunteer?"
"No," I say, "I'm a pharmacy technician."
"Pharm-acy tech-nician?"
"Yeah, I help out the pharmacist."
"How old are you?"
"19"
"But you look like a baby!"
"Thanks."
"That's good. You keep those good looks of yours when you're older."
"Yeah, thanks. I hope so too."
"Don't worry, you will. Good luck son."

Now, thats refreshing. Quite a change from the usual, "She stole my fucking smokes. Look in her pockets, I can see them from here." or "My god, he pulled down his pants again.".

Old people, you gotta love them. Seriously. You have to.