This is a story of a heist I pulled. To clarify, I am in no way a career criminal. In case you were thinking this is going to be a story about stealing diamonds or breaking in to bank vaults. Some Ocean’s Eleven type shit. Not the case at all. Also, due to the nature of any heist story; certain details will have to be omitted. Details like why or how I got there. What I can say is the amount I stole was in the ball park of 5 figures. It just starts with me inside of an American hospital.
They stuck me in a four bed ensuite with two other guys. A British backpacker named Benny took the window spot. Lucky S.O.B. The fluorescent light, the crème coloured walls, that constant antibacterial aroma stinging you in the nose hairs; I would’ve killed for a view. Probably because I’ve spent too much time in a shitty cubicle job and this was triggering my phobia of office spaces. Benny was alright, we got along since everyone saw us as foreigners. He shot a nail gun through his forearm where he had a tattoo of a pin up girl, but now the scar covers her whole face. Heh, I told him she looks like Two-Face from Batman. He wasn’t a fan of comic books I guess.
I can’t remember the name of the old guy in the bed opposite mine. This guy was nuts. He’d just go on these exasperating rants, completely unprovoked. I imagine he’d be a fan of picket signs and the impending apocalypse. Shit was awkward though, we tried to ignore him for the most part but what can you do when you’re stuck in a four by four with the guy.
Before this, I had no idea how the healthcare system over here worked at all. American public hospitals are non-profit but whatever costs are attained during your visit are passed directly on to you. They don’t have Medicare the way we do or NHS (for the Brits). And if you follow world affairs or maybe seen a couple of documentaries you’d know the healthcare system in the US is fucked. The only thing worse than being sick is being middle class at the same time. If you don’t have insurance you can either pay off your medical bill in instalments or just be dead. Whatever’s more convenient.
What’s funny is that I wasn’t even aware that Benny had no travel insurance, we never discussed it. I just remember hearing a commotion outside our room one night and come to find out that Benny tried to pull a runner. Hah! Turns out security had caught him sneaking out. I just started laughing at first but then shit escalated fast; they put Benny in a fucking headlock and dragged him to the ground. I think my first thought was “Hey, that’s kinda odd.” You know those moments where it’s too weird for you to initially comprehend what’s going on? After it sank in my next thought was “This is a hospital right? Since when can you get detained at a hospital for trying to leave? Is this normal?” What caught me off guard was when two cops came down just minutes later and took him away in cuffs. What... in... the... fuck? Since when are the police that prompt? I have no idea what happened to Benny after that, he could be in Guantanamo for all I know.
I would’ve shrugged the whole thing off but the thing was; I didn’t have any travel insurance either. At the start of this, I said that this was a heist story. So, what exactly did I heist? American health care. Up until now I was planning to do exactly what Benny did. I wished I’d known he was going to make a run for it. In a way, he was an unintentional guinea pig because I hadn’t realised how serious it was to try and skip on your bill around here. I remember reading somewhere that the US incurs a cost of $2 billion per year for unpaid medical bills. I now wonder how much of that is due to outsiders like us.
“They always like to keep you foreigners in the same room. Easier for ‘em to keep track of.” The old guy pipes up.
“What?”
“This isn’t the first time this has happened y’know? Had one other foreigner in this room before you guys, tried to pull the same trick. Same result.”
“What happens to them?”
“You follow the news? Country is still coming out of recession; new president’s trying to dig us out of debt. War effort is bleeding money. But what’s the golden rule of business? Always sell what the people need. Over here, healthcare stopped being a commodity a long time ago. Nowadays, it’s a product – like a car or an oven. Over here there’s nothing you can’t put a price on and sell. Because when making budgets the most important thing is to allow for necessities like nukes and missiles. So we can keep on staying number one.”
“Thanks for the ramble, but you didn’t answer my question. What happens to them?”
“Dunno what happens to ‘em.”
I didn’t have the money to cover even a fraction of my medical bill. They handed it to me while I was reading the papers, browsing through the used cars section for fun. Apparently my wellbeing is worth more than every single one of the cars on this page.
“We’ll be back on Monday to discuss payment.”
I can feel my anxiety slightly kicking in. I’ve got a weekend to come up with the payment. Where am I supposed to get that kind of money? There really was no other option except to just run. But if I was going to pull a dine and dash on a hospital bill I had to at least try to be smart about it. Maybe scope the place out? Case the joint, as they say.
Reconnaissance. Every morning the doctor drops by and says hello, she was a bona fide MILF. Brunette hair tied up with thin framed spectacles and a defined bust hidden under that business shirt. Imagine Lisa Ann, yeah Google that shit son. What really fucked me up was that I’ve been stuck in this room for the past week with a thin curtain as my only shield of privacy so I haven’t been able to jerk off; which is why I’ve had to greet her each day under the cover of a heavy blanket. After Dr. Milf left and my boner died down, I went to work planning my escape.
The eighth floor, there are only two ways to get out; the elevator or the stairs. The staircase was only used as a fire exit and the door was locked. I’m guessing the only way to open it would be to trigger the fire alarm. There were several fire alarms located around – one near the receptionist desk, one in the hall way outside my room and one outside the toilets.
There were six elevators in the hallway beyond the reception, but there was a security station occupied by two muscle bound orderlies. There was no way of getting to the elevators without passing the reception and security. However, the door to the staircase was in the hallway a bit before reception; easier to access. But I was planning on keeping a low profile so I wasn’t too eager to set off the fire alarm. It’s got to be the elevator.
Benny attempted his escape at night time. Which is usually the best time for an escape right? Except at night time in a hospital it is extremely quiet and everyone is in their own rooms. The only people that mill about in the hallways are the staff. Any move you’d try to make would be noticed straight away. The escape has to be during the day when the hospital is busy and filled with people. I must’ve been hanging out around the hallway for about an hour just observing the staff to try and see if they had some sort of routine, they usually do that in movies. I got nothing. It’s just pure chaos; nurses and orderlies running back and forth in a structured mess. Like road traffic in Southeast Asia.
They had my passport as well. They took it when I was admitted for admin reasons. Although I now suspect it’s to prevent me from running. I tried simply asking for it back but they said they’d give it back to me once they’ve checked me out. Any lawyers want to comment on the legality of this?
“Making a break for it?” Old guy again... I couldn’t be fucked listening to old man conspiracy theories anymore so I ignored him. Last night he wouldn’t stop talking about aliens building the pyramids. He talked about it so much he made me fucking dream about it. Not even bullshitting. These aliens were operating this machinery similar to what we have now and I saw it all because I was on a hang glider, I tried to shoot them but my gun fell down. They looked just like people but for some reason I knew they were aliens. Shit was weird.
“They gave out your description you know. Overheard them talking on the phone to the cops.”
“What did they say?”
“Asian fella with an Australian accent. Not really a common description around here, you’d stick out like a sore thumb.”
Fuck. The anxiety is kicking back in again but it’s starting to overwhelm me this time, like a tidal wave made up of your fears. Shortness of breath and your heart starts beating like crazy. Yeah, I suffer from panic attacks. I hate that shit. Usually I can control it but when you’re by yourself sometimes it can get quite intense. Fucking Tony Soprano makes it look like nothing. I would love to just get dizzy and pass out. Instead, your mind is racing around endlessly and you feel like you’re about to suffocate.
“Settle down, Jesus Christ.”
“They... have my passport.”
Just saying that sentence without punctuating it with a blast of vomit took all my efforts.
“Calm down for fuck’s sake. You can get it back.”
“How?”
“Just tell them you need your passport details to confirm the claim with your insurance provider.”
“I don’t have any insurance.”
“Yeah I know. But they don’t know.”
Holy shit. What’s that famous principle? Someone’s razor? The most complex problems have the simplest solutions? This old guy is a legit genius!
“And don’t talk. Your accent will give yourself away.”
I didn’t waste too much time before heading over to the reception to try and get my passport back later that afternoon. Once I’d calmed down a bit of course.
“Hey, how’s it goin-“
“Hey, we’re pretty busy over here. I should’ve been gone already; my shift ended an hour ago. I didn’t even get a lunch break today! Ugh... I’m so hungry!”
Oh my god lady. I don’t give a shit. That question was rhetorical.
“Oh. Ha-ha-ha. Jeez, that sucks huh? Listen, I’m trying to do my insurance claim over the phone but these guys need my passport details so I’m going to need to get it back off you guys.”
“Oh okay, did you talk to Dr. Milf about this?”
“Uh- yeah. Dr. Milf told me to come get it off you guys.”
“Well she told us to give it to you once they’ve checked you out.”
Again, lawyers please comment on the legality of this. Surely they can’t just hold your passport hostage like that?
“Look, I’m checking out in two days and who knows how long these insurance claims take to process!-“
“Okay okay... just let me call Dr. Milf alright?”
She dials but there’s no answer on the other end of the line. I imagine Dr. Milf is probably taking a bath right now, lathering herself with soapy water; bubbles floating around her. That’s not creepy right? I was just hypothesizing is all.
“Look, I don’t check out til the day after tomorrow. I just need it for this insurance thing and I’ll give it back to you guys tomorrow morning. I mean you seem busy as hell, at least this will get some paperwork done for you guys.”
“That should be fine I guess... Just make sure you get it all done by tomorrow morning.”
Holy fuck, I just 007ed this shit.
007ed (derived from 007.)
Verb
1. Using what little charisma you have, because you’ve always been socially inept, to get what you need.
2. That shit I just pulled off.
D-Day (next morning). This is it. Its 10am and it is busy as hell out there. I can already hear the clatter of trays and clipboards outside. I decide to leave all my stuff behind. I thought it would be best to travel light on my feet so I only took my wallet and passport. The rest of my belongings were just clothes and toiletries, non essential shit. No point lugging that around. The backpack stays. The old guy was still sleeping so I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. He was alright; I guess he wasn’t that crazy after all.
I’m in the hallway and it’s just buzzing full of people. I make my way towards the reception. Although I had spent a lot of time scoping out my surroundings and planning my escape, it wasn’t overly complex. The idea was just to try and keep a low profile and make it to the elevators, once I get in the elevator it should be smooth sailing all the way out. Pretty easy right? I get to the reception, it’s busy. Phones are ringing and nurses are flipping through charts. I walk straight past. Nice. Now I just need to get past security and on to the elevators. As I approach the security station, I can see it’s empty. There are no security guards there. Yes! Too easy! I walk straight towards the elevators and press for the button.
Hospital elevators are always slow, but one eventually comes after a few minutes. I’m not a dick so I stand a fair distance away from the door to let the occupants inside get out first. That’s what you’re meant to do. Anyone who does otherwise is a douche bag. The first person that comes out of the elevator is Dr. Milf. This is pretty much where the shit starts hitting the fan because I now realised that the elevators were no longer a viable escape route. Her eyes widen, pointing her fingers at me; I can smell the perfume off her wrist.
I start sprinting back towards the reception as she ran over to the security station to call them in. My run slowly paced back to a fast walk as I realised I would attract too much attention. My mind now racing, I realised had to think quickly before I get hit with a wave of anxiety. The last thing I need is another panic attack. Breathe and stay calm. The only other escape route would be the stairs. I walked back towards my room where the fire alarm was. I had no other choice. I pulled my sleeves down other my arm and slammed my elbow into the glass. The fire alarm now triggered you can hear the sirens blaring throughout the building. It is fucking loud. I look back towards the reception to see that security has arrived, four ruffians who looked like they moonlighted as bouncers. For some reason I decide that the best course of action was to try and incite panic. I yelled “FIRE!” and “RUN!” but the thing about inciting panic, you need to convey the appropriate emotions. I was never any good at Drama class in high school so my uninspiring attempt was met with mostly confused looks. Fuck it. I started running towards the stairs. I guess the action of running inspired everyone else to do the same thing, and within a couple of seconds I had the most of the floor running in the same direction as me. Security were still at reception waiting for me, it probably didn’t occur to them that I wasn’t heading towards the elevators anymore and thought they had cut me off from the only exit. I get to the staircase first and slammed my shoulder into the door. Thank fuck it opened and everyone piled in after me running down the staircase.
I was pretty much spearheading this operation and I realised it would be best to immerse myself into the crowd so I fall back a bit. As we ran down people from other floors started to panic from hearing the loud thunder of all our footsteps running down the concrete stairs. Almost immediately they started joining us as well. To be honest, it was quite fun. I was enjoying this. It was getting crowded and I had a feeling that security might be waiting for me down at the bottom staircase. The elevators should be empty because the stairs are the designated fire exit. I splinter off from the mob at the third level and start walking against the crowd who are trying to get in to the staircase. I head towards the elevators. Like I thought, empty. It comes promptly and I get inside. There’s a sign underneath the buttons that says “In case of fire, do not use elevator. Take stairs.” Well, lucky there’s no fire then. I press for the ground floor.
The elevator doors open up just as the first group of people are piling out of the stairs. The ground floor reception looks empty; most of the people must have already gone outside. I start to walk with the first group of about five people that are now streaming from the fire exit to try and blend in. We make it outside where there are more people just standing around. Then I see two cops in front of their patrol car on the road, they see me. I don’t want to change directions so I just keep walking down the front steps. Once I get to the footpath, they stop me. I considered running, but if anyone has ever watched Cops; you would know in the entire history of that show there has never been anyone who has ran from the cops and actually got away.
“Hey, what’s your name?” one of them asks me while the other one kept scanning the crowd. Shit. I didn’t say anything because I knew as soon as they heard my accent they would know I’d fit the description. I didn’t know what else to do except to keep ignoring him.
“Hey! What’s your fucking name?” Oh fuck. I need to think of something but it’s hard when they keep hounding you with questions.
“Did you hear me?!” And then it was almost as if it was a reflex action or something instinctual kicked in but at that moment I just started speaking Vietnamese.
The other cop looks at me and goes “Screw it, probably isn’t him.” And then he waves me off, so I start to walk. It was surreal, that weird feeling where you still haven’t believed what happened actually happened. Mostly because I can’t speak Vietnamese, my parents and relatives speak it all the time. I had just completely made up some Vietnamese sounding gibberish. But the sounds vaguely matched the face and they probably assumed I was the real deal.
I walked down the street and jumped into the first cab I saw. “Just drive!” He rolls his eyes at me as he accelerates down the strip. “You watch too many movies my friend, no one says that over here.”
Follow Tien on Twitter: @acecube87