Nurse Wanted

[Stirling]

Doctor Alex Sanderson regarded himself in the mirror, searching for clichés. None here, he assured himself, looking with approval at his spare yet athletic figure and 5'10" build, and the wavy sandy hair that fell to short-clipped bangs about his ears and necks. His skin had a healthy athletic glow, for he was as comfortable on the tennis courts and the golf links as he was in the office of his general practice. Pleased, he returned to the business at hand.

Ah yes, the need for a nurse and receptionist. He had only recently opened his practice in this upscale retirement community and young, qualified help would be hard to come by. Particularly given his high standards. His high, exacting, almost perfectionist standards. He chuckled to himself, looking again at the classified ad he had placed.

EXPERIENCED, PRIVATE PRACTICE DOCTOR REQUIRES OBEDIENT, TRAINED NURSE, SKILLED WITH TOOLS OF THE TRADE, FOR IMMEDIATE SUBORDINATE POSITION IN NEWLY OPENED OFFICE. RESPONSIBILITIES INCLUDE DISROBING AND TESTING PATIENTS AND ASSISTING DOCTOR IN EXAMS.

No doubt likely candidates would post their resumes here soon, at which point he could call them in for an interview.

 

[Destiny_Brent]

DESTINY BRENT RN,

EXPERIENCED. GRADUATE WITH HONORS FROM THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN MEDICAL SCHOOL. LICENSED PARAMEDIC. 2 YEARS EXPERIENCE. A LICENSED RN WITH TRAUMA AND PRIVATE PRACTICE EXPERIENCE. 3 YEARS EXPERIENCE. TAKES ORDERS VERY WELL, HAS SEVERAL BACKGROUND CLASSES IN MEDICAL TECHNOLOGIES AND PATIENT CARE.

REFRENCES:
DR. PETER ABBBOT M.D. (PROFFESOR)
DR. MARSHA FAIRFIELD M.D. (PROFFESOR)
MICHEAL RICH (EMT)
DR. RICHARD PETERS M.D. (EMPLOYER)
DR. FAWN VICHENZO M.D. (EMPLOYER)

 

[maryceleste]

She's lying on the carpeted floor on her stomach. She's twenty-three-year-old and rather slender...reading the help-wanted section, and wearing a tee shirt and bikini underwear. A glob of purple jelly drops from her peanut-butter and jelly sandwhich. It lands on the page. No one is around so she sucks up the glob, but then looks around with quick guilt. She moves the saucer over so that it is under her sandwhich, and keeps reading.
When she see the Doctor's ad, she can't help but reach back and touch under herself through the thin cotton. Her nipples stand out. By the time she reads the Nurse's reply, Amber is masturbating steadily, and no longer reading. Perhaps she's remembering some other Nurse from long ago.
I'm a Surgical Nurse's Assistant, she thinks. I don't even know if I could pass for a decent Receptionist!
Still, she sends off a Resume. Maybe he'll need a glorified gopher, she thinks.

Resume: Surgical Nurse's Assistant (three years) with some Emergency Room NA experience..general non-trauma hospital with occasional Trauma cases. Hospital Employee of the Month. Perioperative Employee of the Month. Emergency Department Heart-Of-Gold Award. Can talk into two phones at once. Loyal member of the O.R. "Zoo Crew" (After hours, of course.)
References:
<insert confidential list of Surgeons, E.D. Docs, Nurses, Surgical Techs, and Bill the Bio-med guy.>

[Edited by maryceleste on 06-02-2001 at 02:32 AM]

 

[ariosto]

With some trepidation, Bruno Visconti knocked on the door of Doctor Sanderson. It wasn't that he was afraid of this Doctor or any Doctor for that matter. Bruno was the son of
Gian Visconti the local mafia boss and was more familiar with people being afraid of him then the other way around. No, the truth of the matter was that this virile young man, world class down hill skier and heir apparent to a vast crime kingdom could not as they say
"get it up anymore."

His machismo was on the line.

When he failed his long time girl friend Maria Vita (exotic dancer)at the peak of a memorably volcanic enconter, she had, after all desperate attempts on her part failed to produce the slightest ripple in his placid pecker, suggested the world reknowned Doctor Sanderson.

OOC:
Looks like fun, but if your'e not taking patients yet let me know and I'll be back when you do.

 

[Grrrr]

Dear Dr. Sanderson ,

My name Is Michael Haag , I'm a fresh medicine graduate from the university of ..... , It's become to my notice that you have recently started your new practice .
And since the current circumstances forces my leaving into your city , I was wondering if you would need a practicing resident doctor at your office . The financial matters are not an issue as I just received my inheretance , I'll almost agree to whatever salary You might suggest provided that I'll be allowed a residential room within the office until I get my own place . Hoping that my offer meets ur approval . with my best regards .

sincerely yours ,
M.S. Haag

N.B.
enclosed with this letter is a copy of my graduation certificates and references , as well as a recommendation letter from your former colleague Ph.D. Eric Stanon .

 

[Stirling]

Dr. Sanders

Dr. Sanders regarded his applications with some dismay. Men? Why are men applying for the job of my private nurse? A few had even turned up in person and had to be shooed away (though his address hadn't even been published in the paper!) He ground his teeth. I'm a fool, I should've been more explicit in my advertisement. Shaking his head, he opened the last envelope. This resume belonged to a girl named Amber. He began to read. Hmmm, she was a surgical nurse's assistant, an ER hand, skilled with phones. She had even been named employee of the month a couple times.

"Well I'm sold," Dr. Sanders said. Then the picture falls out of the envelope. It's of a young, attractive woman in a t-shirt and underwear, lying on the floor and reading the newspaper. Quick as a shaved dolphin, Dr. Sanders reached for the phone.

Unfortunately it was the machine. He left a message. "Ms. Amber? This is Dr. Sanders. I've seen your, um, resume, and I am quite impressed. If you are free, I'd like you to come in for an interview tomorrow morning. Please dress … appropriately." He let the last word hang like an unspoken invitation in the air, then quickly hung up the phone.

 

[maryceleste]

When I turned on my bed and looked at the clock, it read 10:30 a.m. I blinked.
"Oh crap!" I said. I must have turned my alarm off in my sleep! I sprang out from under the bedsheet, scaring a cat, and ran yet another marathon shower, soaping my body quickly while I worried. I was supposed to be at Doctor Sander's office at elevan-thirty--but how could I possibly make it on time? I turned off the water and toweled quickly. I tried the number for his office again, to tell him that I might be late, but there was no answer. I pulled my white french panties up and listened again, but it rang until a recorded female voice said, "You've reached Doctor Sander's office.."
I hung up, cursing myself for staying up so late. I put on my small B-cup bra. I slapped some make-up on, and then pulled up on a low-cut white blouse. I tugged up a short black skirt. When I looked in the mirror at it, I tried to pull it down some more, but it didn't budge much. (Is this what he meant by dressing "appropriately," or was he warning me to be more professional? I couldn't decide, so I decided to err on the side of what worked, but I felt an old guilt for thinking that way.) I was buttoning my blouse as I hurried toward the front door.
You've probably already lost the job, I thought. And you shouldn't have sent that picture! What in the hell where you thinking? No more red wine for you!
By some miracle, I ended up in his office barely on time. I walked in like I was on a casual stroll, but my heart was hammering.