Hey. Hey you. Yes, I’m talking to you, the curmudgeon behind that little desk there. The woman running the front desk at my pediatrician’s office, yea you. Yoo-hoo, over here. This is our first time here, a little help?

You know I’m here. I’m right in front of you. Why are you not looking at me? At least acknowledge my existence because after a good 10 minutes of being ignored I’m beginning to have my own doubts.

Seriously, just look up from your game of mine sweeper and give me some eye contact. I’ll even help you out a little, click on the blocks on the corner.

See, I helped you out now help me out. Let me know that you know that I am here. Seriously, this is about to get ugly, but not because of me.

You see that little thing with her little hand on your desk? That’s Little Hoss the Destroyer and she is about to go ape-shit on your desk. And guess what, I’m not going to do shit about it. I hope that you are not real fond of that glass nameplate because in about another minute I can see it flying through the air, courtesy of the Destroyer.

I’ve said Hi several times but you still ignore me. I’ve said “excuse me” and all I get is a finger and then more silence. I don’t get this, I don’t know what to do. You are not on the phone, I see no ear piece tucked behind your monstrous ears so I know that it’s not a wireless thing either. So come on, just stop ignoring me.

This is a doctor’s office, this is a helping profession. You should really be a people person if you are in this line of work. It’s kind of a prerequisite, ya know?

Look, I know everyone is busy. I’m busy too. Right now I’m busy trying to keep my two kids from going Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome in your hallway. I don’t want this but yet, this is where I find myself. In another five minutes they are going to get into a big ring and duel Master Blaster for methane. You don’t want none of that.

My kids are new patients and all I have to do is drop off the information sheet that you gave me. You don’t even have to say anything to me, just take it. Come on, it’s easy. Just stick out that claw you call a hand, grab the clip board and I’ll go coral the dragons to your waiting room; which I have noticed is a mighty long way from your desk.

You would think that you would also like kids if your work in a pediatricians’ office but I don’t see many smiles on your face. Maybe this is a bad career choice for you but I don’t see why you should take it out on me, just please take the God Damn Paper so I can get my daughter near the one toy you have in the waiting room instead of trying to pull down my pants to show the world that she knows where Daddy’s booty is.

It’s her new word and unless I distract her she will not stop trying to do it. It’s embarrassing. But are you enjoying this? Are you enjoying seeing me fend off my daughter with one hand, keeping my pants up with the other, and rocking my son’s car seat with my foot so he’ll stop crying? Is this like the parenting circus to you? Am I the big fat dancing bear, is that what I am to you?

This is one of those big doctors’ offices, with 10 docs and we never really know which one we are going to see so I understand that it is all about making money. But the quicker you take this paper and file it anywhere, the sooner you’ll be able to charge me for something I don’t need. I get how the game is played, I’m with it, I’m hip to it.

But we really can’t get to the over-charging and bad service until you take this form. So please, just stick out your hand and take the fucking form.

Wait a minute, ok, I get what this is. This is your power trip. I understand it now. This is where you get your kicks because you know tonight that Hector will probably stand you up at the laundry mat and wash his man panties with that prostitute he’s been hanging out with.

I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. It’s just that you’re a really horrible, horrible person.

Is it because we are in Kansas? Are you taking the whole Wizard of Oz thing a little too seriously? I thought that everyone here treated that as a joke, kind of a yuk yuk yuk thing.

But no, you seem to be taking it very seriously indeed as you are obviously the little mustache man that guards the gate to the Emerald City except your mustache is much better than the dude in the movie. So I get it that I’m just a little munchkin to you and I’m not near as cute as Dorothy. But you got to eventually let me in.

Seriously, I’ve been here in front of you for so long that I’m beginning to feel like I’ve got squatters rights. Maybe I’ll just unpack the bedroll and fire up the Hibachi and grill some rat.

Did I offend you in someway when I showed up 30 minutes ago? Was I too early for my appointment? Did I sandbag you and give you too much time to get ready for the new patient? Did I misunderstand your initial instructions when I first got the form, is that it? “Fill out this form and return it to the front when you are done” you said. That’s what I heard but is there some “read between the lines” thing that I missed? Because I’m not very good at that.

How about you just get one of the 20 people behind you to take this form from me? That’s a compromise, isn’t it? You get to do no work and I look sufficiently stupid for not understanding your directions in the first place. I’ve tried getting their attention as well but they seem to be terrified of speaking around you.

I mean, I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, but aren’t you the receptionist? Isn’t part of that job description that you are supposed to greet people? I’m just asking, because maybe you should think about going into another line of work.

Ok, you hear that? That’s my other kid losing it. Now both kids are screaming and I hope to god that is fucking up your mine sweeper game or have we moved on to Cubis? I’ve been able to keep both kids quiet and entertained for 30 minutes by using nothing more than funny animal sounds I make myself, because you have no toys in your kids’ waiting room, while I fill out this one sheet of paperwork. It’s a pediatricians’ office, for fucks sake! Are you shocked that kids even come in here!? So fucking seriously, what do you want from me?!

“Sounds like Dad has his hands full.” you finally say.

I hate you so much.


  1. Y'know, maybe you should consider looking for a newer new pediatrician. Just a thought.

  2. I personally think that you should stick with that pedi office and crop dust that bitch every chance you get. =)