The Summer of Prince Albert
non-fiction, humor, short story
Published on:
March 12, 10:58pmWord Count:
2466Last Edited:
March 12, 11:07pmWork Description
This is another piece I wrote for my Creative-non fiction class. A little more disturbing though.
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This builds character. I told myself that everyday last summer,
while working fulltime at the hospital in Grand Rapids. It
wouldn’t have been so bad, except I cleaned up shit at my old job
and didn’t really want to again. I had also worked at a
nursing home a block from my house my junior and senior year of
high school. I guess I couldn’t get enough of human
excrement. I took the hospital job not so much by choice, but
out of necessity. I had applied for almost every job in the
greater Grand Rapids area that involved selling clothes and food,
but not a single place called me back.
“It’s probably because of your face made for
radio,” my friend Michael joked. Or at least I hoped he was
joking. He shouldn’t talk. He has a unibrow.
So, being a famous writer had to be put on the back burner for a
while. Cleaning up shit was my teenage destiny.
“You’re absolutely stunning!” said Patty, my
trainer. I blushed, said thanks, and followed her down the
hall to the elevators. Her hair was long and blonde. It
swayed back and forth, brushing her lower back as she walked.
The hallway leading to the elevators looked a like a hotel.
Pictures hung in elegant frames and the lights were dim,
spotlighting only them. It didn’t smell like old people, or
death or what I imagined a hospital to smell like. It smelled
like fries and Windex. It was my first day. I wore my
hair in two braids because during training I cleaned about twenty
toilets, and had a couple run-ins with water.
Disgusting.
“Seriously, you’re gorgeous!”
“Thanks.” As I said this, Patty turned
around, ignoring me completely, something I eventually grew
accustomed to over the summer.
The Environmental Services department was on
level A. The halls were dusty looking on level A.
Patients didn’t go down here much, and if they did, they used the
patient hall. The hall for my department was meant for
employees only, so that meant renovating and cleaning didn’t take
place often, or at least not since the seventies.
Patty pushed a silver button and two beige,
metal doors swung open toward us revealing a small corridor filled
with people. They were all dressed the same as me. Our
uniforms weren’t the generic hospital scrubs the rest of the
hospital staff got to wear. We were issued classy black and
white striped curtains. They weren’t curtains exactly and
they were anything but classy. They were polyester, black and
white striped, double-breasted pieces of crap, complete with puffy
eighties sleeves. Wearing men’s underwear couldn’t have made
me feel less feminine. When I walked down the corridor and
was introduced to my new colleagues, I understood why Patty thought
I was so pretty. It was a bonafide freak show down
there. It was as if the circus came to town, dropped off all
the members from their sideshow, and then ran for the hills.
The first person I was introduced to, a man who
I learned later, had been released from prison a month earlier for
aggravated assault and attempted burglary. He had an ICP
clown tattooed on his forearm. Personally, I’ve never
listened to ICP. The fact that their name is Insane Clown
Posse has kept me away naturally. I also read when I was
fifteen, that the band promotes people having sex and doing coke in
their mosh pits. I’m all for mosh pits, but let’s leave the
sex and coke for behind closed doors.
Patty disappeared after the first introduction,
so I was left standing between the ICP criminal and a woman who
must have been six and a half feet tall. ICP criminal grinned
and winked at me, so I scooted closer to the Amazon woman. It
was then that I noticed a weird sucking and clicking sound.
It sounded like my sister when she used to readjust her retainer
during TV commercials. I glanced up to Amazon woman and
realized the culprit of the sound. She had dentures, but they
were too big, so she was flipping them over and over in her
mouth. I couldn’t help but stare. I had only seen
dentures twice before. What can I say? I was a
sheltered child. The first time, I was about nine or ten and
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It was amusing and it shows your true ability and it also shows your personality. You need to write more because that was cute and amusing. I wish my stories could be funnier. You need to teach people to write funnier stories. Thankyou for enlightening my day with that amusing story. But one crtique...please don't lose your point in your humor. It would be funnier if there is a defined point and something to make that point funny. Bur please please please please keep writing!
didn’t really want to again.
I'd' take out the word "really" and perhaps tidy up this sentence, because it's great, really setting the tone, but it's a bit disordered.
I took the hospital job not so much by choice
"so much" is also a bit unnecessary, cluttering a pretty tight sentence.
Cleaning up shit was my teenage destiny.
The word "teenage" made me go back and reread, wondering if the narrator was, in fact, a teenager. The sentence would be fine without, perhaps even stronger.
Pictures hung in elegant frames and the lights were dim, spotlighting only them.
"Only them" refers to what? The people, or the pictures? If it's the pictures, a brief description would bring the setting to life. If it's the people, this needs to be clarified.
old people, or death or what I imagined
"or death (coma) or what I imagined...
Disgusting.
I think your descriptions of the duties is enough that you don't have to add this word.
The halls were dusty looking
This is an image that didn't really word for me. Perhaps expanding the description, or going a different description would help.
Our uniforms weren’t the generic hospital scrubs the rest of the hospital staff got to wear. We were issued classy black and white striped curtains. They weren’t curtains exactly and they were anything but classy. They were polyester, black and white striped, double-breasted pieces of crap, complete with puffy eighties sleeves.
I'd like to see this description tightened. It's a bit like going in circles and I'm not sure how important it is to the story. Cutting it back would help the flow of reading. But I love the following line.
I also read when I was fifteen, that the band
The word "also" is unnecessary and there should be a coma after "read" because when I was fifteen is an added thought.
ICP criminal grinned and winked at me, so I scooted closer to the Amazon woman.
"ICP criminal" is kind of a nickname, so I think shortening "the Amazon woman" to Amazon, or a likewise nickname would word really well here. In fact, considering the tone of the work, witty nicknames would be a great addition.
What can I say? I was a sheltered child.
This is a bit unnecessary to the piece. Just not having seems dentures already implies this.
She talked from the back of her throat, if that’s possible. It was a gurgling sound and it vibrated a few times before the words escaped her two horribly crooked teeth.
Excellent description.
The tall and skinny men both had black skin.
This was a little strange to read, like you're trying to be politically correct, but it didn't quite work.
A nurse had called and complained about a patient complaining about his floor being sticky.
This sentence is a bit of a hard read. Some reorganization would help, especially not using the word "complaining" twice.
She was black and had thick braided hair
This was a bit strange again. Perhaps a more subtle description would help, like a light blush seemed lost on her dark cheeks...
It was obviously flaccid, I mean only a freak would be erect at a time like this, but I guess I was half expecting it to be up, considering he must be into pain.
I think I would make this two separate sentences, the first ending with "flaccid". But it seems to need something to make it more streamline and easy to read.
I don’t know if it was the awkwardness of the situation
I would start this as a new sentence, because you go from his dialoge to her thoughts. Though, I'd recommend cutting everything up to here...
As if everyone should know how to remove a dick ring.
This is a humorous story and, you're right, the job could be worth it. I particularly like from the patient on, but up until then, it read a bit slow. Some tidying of thoughts, cutting off unnecessary description, and reorganization would help tremendously, because, like I said, this story is definately worth sharing.
Great Job.
--Amber
Victoria
This is hysterical! I thought the denture discussion went a bit longer than necessary and would like to know a bit more about Dawn, seems the two of you clicked....truly hysterical.
Well done
Louise
This is very descriptive, which I love. I appreciate being able to clearly smell everything and see everybody, even the small details of the swishing of Patty's hair. I also admire how you described everything so specifically, right down to the individual things that make up the smells in the hospital (llike "fries and Windex"); it's not just a jumble of indescribable things.
But on the first page, paragraph 7, the main character is talking about her opinions of the band ICP, and I find such discussion unnecessary. I only say so because her opinions of the band are off the subject at hand: describing the hospital and its occupants. Or why not just leave the fact,
“I also read when I was fifteen, that the band promotes people having sex and doing coke in their mosh pits” (p.1)
but omit the main character’s opinion? I agree with the main character on the band, but I find it unnecessary and superfluous, so I say either mention the ICP tattoo and be done with the band, or include the mosh pit fact and omit the opinion (but that's just me).
I also love the way you ended. It leaves you wanting more and makes me almost positive that this isn’t the end of the story, and is instead probably separated into chapters, because I’m sure we'll get a full explanation of the title, “The Summer of Prince Albert." And maybe it’s just me, but I didn’t think this was disturbing at all. No offense, but I think it could’ve been written better. And I was also wondering if the main character has a name? Other than that it was pretty good, but I must admit: it didn’t grab me. I think the reason I grabbed it was because it claimed to be disturbing.
I really liked your style. That was a well told story. I too used to work in hospitals /nursing homes and you're right, there are some stories to be told. I love how you put me at the hospital with explicit descriptions. I really felt like I heard the noises the Amazon was making and the smells of "fries" and "windex" while I was reading. I also like the way you paragraphed, something I must get better at. One day I'll put some stories of my times in long term care facilities, or even in private homes when I worked hospice. Keep up the good work. I look forward to reading about more of you hospital stories.