Pain in the . . . oh, you know.

Actual dispatch: "Respond to the front of the city administration building for a female down in the lawn complaining of pain in the rectum and buttocks."
No one moved for the truck for a good second. "Are we getting punked?" "Is this the cops' idea of a joke?" "Is this a joke from our union negotiators?"

Oh no. Actual call.

Pain was not secondary to a fall, a bowel movement, heavy lifting or anything else we could find. May have been secondary to sitting on concrete for awhile down at the city park? Who knows, my medic's assessment provided no magical insight.
"Do you want transported to the ER?"
"No."
"Seriously? Then why did you call 911?" (She was in fact the original caller)
"I want an aspirin."
At this point my Captain looks like he might strangle someone.
"SEE THAT BIG SIGN THAT SAYS 'Walgreen's' AT THE END OF THE BLOCK?!"
"Yeah."
"THEY SELL ASPIRIN."
"I called you out here, I want you to do something. I'm not buying a whole bottle."
"We're leaving."