Tuesday, October 23, 2012

not even if my mouth was full...

My friend Dom has said more than once "you wouldn't say shit, if your mouth was full." and I suppose she is pretty close to being right.
I don't like to draw a lot of attention to myself, as a rule.
Every once in a blue moon I have what my grandmother would call a Daugherty breakdown (named for the unhinged Irish side of the family and having nothing to do with the rock star.) and let things fly, but in general I am a good keeper of both my cool, and secrets and I never, unless pressed really hard, ask for help.
I like be the helper, not the helpee and I reserve a certain smug annoyance for people that are needy in an external manner.  I am from a long line of people that fix other people's shit.

Today I had to take Maxwell to the orthodontist to have his final appointment.
We arrived twenty minutes early and checked in, sat down and I tried to read a magazine, while Freyja ransacked the toy area and made a lot of noise. 
Just as I settle into my PEOPLE,  in walks a lady with a quiet kid and a very noisy persona.  She was like the energetic version of Pigpen from Peanuts, you felt unsettled just being in the same room as this gal.  I hate that type of person, just can't stand it. 
I know that sounds horrible, but I would rather spend time with a junkie, or a person deep in crisis, than I would this type.
Yes, I am judging, but I am an excellent judge, and I was so right on.
The receptionist told her that she was late, and would have to wait for our appointment to be over, before her kid would be seen. 
She stands in the middle of the large room, taking up a lot of emotional space and declares to the room
Naturally I assume she meant that she was late, because a been stung her outside the doctor's office, or perhaps in her car, so I ask, 

"are you ok?  Are you allergic? "

Nope, not allergic, but she needs an ice pack.

The receptionist, who by the way happens to be a bit of a cold fish, ignores the request for ice, so I pester her.   
"Don't you have a first aid kit, or some blue ice in your break room?"

Nope, no ice. 

"Sorry Mrs. Myhusbandslastname we are an orthodontist office, we do not carry ice."
There is another older overachieving helper type lady in the office, who has just gone through disaster training, tells me she has a chemical ice pack in her car.
Viola! we are in rescuing heaven!   
She is super excited to get to use it!

The receptionist continues to be completely unconcerned, so  I start to get a little pissed, but there is something off about this bee sting victim. 
Perhaps asshole receptionist is onto something?
I take a closer look and see that she looks pretty darn good, and not at all choky or shocky, or anything.   I ask "when did the bee sting you?"
"Oh a couple of hours ago when I was gardening."
The icepack disaster woman returns with two disposable ice packs and starts trying to activate them, which requires breaking an internal bubble thingy, which is more difficult that it should be, which makes bee sting lady whine, which makes me irritated. When I left she was getting a lot of attention from the ice pack woman, and I suppose she needed it, but I felt like slapping her.

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