I hate people, as a group. I love and enjoy many individual persons, but you get a bunch of people in a group and I get the urge to get a flamethrower.
I don’t come by this dislike in a vacuum, either. I have worked a number of jobs where I have had to be in contact with a vast number and variety of folks. And people, as a rule, suck. They’re pushy and rude and slow and stupid (or overly smart) and they just… don’t pay attention, 90% of the time.
Knowing this, I tend to err on the side of extra-polite and obliging when dealing with working folks. I am nice to waiters, I am patient with cashiers, and I have no problem standing in a long line at Target because they only have 3 registers open.
(By the way, WTF, Target? EVERY time?)
It’s because I’ve been there, on that side of the desk. I know the frustrations that come with jobs of that type, and so I am more inclined to try to be the bright spot in someone’s day instead of the person they talk about during their lunch break. If people only knew how many conversations in my office or in the back room at Borders started with “Oh my god, this fucking guy.”
So, like I said, I am more than inclined to be patient when I’m the customer. 9 times out of 10, that patience is acknowledged and appreciated. That 1 time out of 10, however… is when I’m at the doctor’s office.
Now, here’s the thing. I have worked in a busy doctor’s office as the front desk lady. I FULLY understand what it’s like to have to constantly ask and answer the same questions over and over. It’s annoying and frustrating and not a little soul-crushing, at the end of the day. That particular doctor’s office nearly did me in, between the drunk Family Practice doctor and the wannabe Brazilian gangsta chick who also worked the desk with me. That girl was straight-up scary, but she only threatened me once. Then we had a nice talk about the availability of untraceable poisons (all bullshit bluffing on my part, of course) and she left me strictly alone after that.
But I digress.
Last week, I finally decided that I couldn’t fix the infection that was attacking my ear so I went to the doctor. I don’t go to the doctor all that often, because I am relatively healthy. So I’m not intimately acquainted with their flow of work, shall we say. When you go in, if you have a scheduled appointment, you are supposed to go to a certain window. If you are a walk-in and need to see a PA, you are to go to a different window. That’s what I did. However, apparently, if you catch someone at a VERY bad time, she tells you that walk-in PA appointments are “for emergencies only” and that I should maybe sit down and wait until she can find a free 15 minutes in some doctor’s schedule to have a look at me.
And boy, do I wish I’d taken a picture of that ear – it was amazing. I wasn’t aware that an ear that was twice it’s normal size and the color of a candy apple didn’t qualify as a goddamned emergency.
I mean, excuse the fuck out of me for interrupting you and asking you to DO YOUR FUCKING JOB.
*throws up hands*
Ohhhhh, I’m at the WRONG WINDOW, am I? I SEE.
Her obvious annoyance with me now knowing which of the 56 windows I was supposed to approach pissed me off. I GET IT, because I have been there, but she could have at least made a stab at hiding it. It was, after all, 9AM. Starting your day with that does not make for a fun morning, eh?