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Just Desserts
Firefighter Paramedics Tim Downs and Greg Hugh talked on the elevator down to the banquet room. They had been attending a firefighter's convention. It had been a busy three days ending with the perquisite banquet at the end.
Tim Downs was looking at the booklet for the banquet his ire rising as he saw who the featured speaker was. The elevator made a slow descent to the hotel lobby.
"Shit, really?" Tim proclaimed to his friend and paramedic partner. He looked at their featured speaker at the banquet and almost shit his pants.
"Look," Tim pointed out to the featured speaker. "No shit!" His finger pointed at the photo in the programme, poking the man's eyes out.
"Hey he was famous you know," Greg tried to calm his friend. "Besides its too late. We all ready paid our money and things are set." He tried to make the best of a bad situation. His friend and paramedic partner was definitely steaming.
"Yeah but really," Tim was getting hotter by the minute. "Man this shit stinks." He shook his head wondering what the hell the organizers were thinking hiring this fucking asshole to speak to them.
Both men walked into the crowded banquet hall and made their way to the table. Dinner was served without preamble and quickly proceeded. Before long dessert and coffee was served as everyone waited for the featured speaker, albeit except for Tim, taking each bite of his tiramisu brought up his blood pressure as a vein in his throat kept time to his heartbeat.
Greg could see that Tim was still fuming under his supposed calm demeanor. So he silently ate his dinner and listened to his table mates.
Once dessert was finished Tim practically exploded as he hissed under his breath.
"This is shit Greg and you know it. Why are we having a stupid actor speak to us? Huh, he never has been in a fire, hell he never ever saved a God damned life and yet we have to listen to him speak. What the hell is the world coming too?" Tim practically punched out the photo in the program, again. He hoped to convince his friend of the sheer stupidity of the organizers.
"Hey it wasn't my decision, supposedly he helped bring a lot of people into the fire business" Greg shrugged and hoped to calm his irate friend.
"Well it's still fucked. I mean he ain't worth it. Really? Why can't we have someone who survived 9-11 speak? Now that guy would be inspiration and motivating. I mean he kept working after he lost all his friends when the towers went down." Tim griped and still could feel his anger building. "Hell it was my old man that made me want to become a firefighter not some damned false pretender or are people that fucking stupid?"
"Hey I understand Tim will you just cool it, huh?" Greg noted their table mates were starting to look at them. "Hey we just have to suffer through this and then we go home tomorrow."
"Well it's still fucked and you know it. I can tell. This actor guy doesn't know shit from shinelo. I mean how many fucking fires has he fought? How mean fucking people has he saved as a paramedic? How many fucking one am calls has he been on? This guy is fucking joke and we shouldn't put up with this bullshit." Tim hissed again drawing more than looks from his tablemates. "And who the hell are they?" Tim pointed to what looked like a camera crew. "Really? This guy is totally fucked up."
"C'mon Tim it isn't that bad," Greg tried to convince himself. The actor wasn't a firefighter or paramedic and hadn't done anything to deserve him being there. He recalled only two weeks ago they had lost a fellow brother to cancer. Where was this so called actor when that happened? Cancer from the job most likely, even with all their equipment you could still die on the job.
Tim noted other firefighters in the room had noticed the camera crew and then looked up at the dais. All the organizers were up there preening themselves and then noted the discontent in the crowded ballroom.
The introduction was made for the featured speaker. Tim couldn't handle it anymore. He got up from the table, ripped his programme in half and stalked out of the ballroom.
Intense quiet enveloped their table and all the firefighters looked at each other. Being close to the dais, it was also noted by the organizers.
Greg knew his friend was right, got up, tore his programme and also left the ballroom. What he didn't know was he had started a wave as other first responders quickly followed suit.
As the speaker got up to the podium, he watched as tables emptied of first responders, each of the programmes was torn in half and it had left the organizers and him speechless. In short order the ballroom emptied leaving only the actor, his camera crew and the hotel staff.
The room was deathly quiet leaving the actor no choice. He motioned to the camera crew and they left the ballroom.