I had to go to the doctor this week for my annual check-up and sat in the waiting room for an extra 45 minutes. Ok. Annoying (and boring), but fine. I’ve come to expect it with any medical-related appointment. Oh and nobody else was in the waiting room whatsoever, but ok…ok.
So here I sit… 5 minutes…10 minutes, no sign of life in the office when another patient walks in the door. She signs in and goes to sit down, and before her ass even meets the 60-year-old stained taupe upholstery, the nurse calls her back! All righty then. I figure that she must be there to see the other doctor or something.
But wait – it happens two more times. AND, this is the best part, the two dudes who also got to go back immediately were huge, smelly, and dirty. I ignorantly chose to sit in the chair right next to the reception window.
The first guy looks about 16 months pregnant. He’s wearing a tan shirt not quite long enough to cover his bun-in-the-oven. This shirt was covered in black smears. It looked like tar, but I don’t really know for sure what the hell it was. His odor horrendous – like ass sweat and BO. I had to hold my breath for what seemed like 5 minutes while he chatted with the receptionist, his asphalt-smeared rear end right next to my head.
Not 5 minutes after smelly comic-book-store guy gets called back, a taxi rolls up to the front door. A vegabond-ish looking guy slides out and comes inside. I hold my breath in anticipation of a nauseating odor. He’s wearing a red, white, and blue wind-suit. Basically, a head-to-toe American flag/ He’s large but not apparently about to give birth to an adult midget clown like the first guy. He approaches the receptionist, and yes, I’m still stupidly sitting in the same chair, and I can tell he’s not going to have his shit together.
That was a good assumption. He’s told by the receptionist that he needs to pay the copay before the appointment and wind-suit says, “oh, uh… can you send me a bill for it?” “It’s $20 and our policy is to collect up front. You have a $35 balance already,” replies the oh-so-pleasant receptionist. “Uh… I just went back to work so don’t have any money but will on Friday so I can pay it all then.” The receptionist relents, but by this time it’s been about 5 more minutes of me trying not to inhale his musky skunk scent.
He doesn’t even sit down before he’s called back! I suppose that’s good for me, the one exiled to the waiting room for an eternity. But what is going on here? The dude had a delinquent account and still got seemingly preferential treatment! Plus, I can’t imagine being the doctor having to examine the general public. Unimaginable…
