Snake oil

This morning I went to the dermatologist (see picture below). I walked up to the receptionist area to check in and was met by the broad backside of a tall man. He wasn’t so much fat as he was tall and just, well, large. What caught my attention most though was the fact that he had his head and, as much of his shoulders as would fit, squeezed into the small glass opening of the partition. You could tell the poor check-in woman was trying to be polite while slowly backing away. Not only was he large and lacking in a personal space sensor but he was talking to the women behind the counter in an animated, booming voice. As far as I could tell he was a pharmacist and now promoting a God-based diet. Don’t ask because I don’t know. He also informed his unwitting audience that he woke up at 8 AM this morning and turned on a TV program that somehow spoke to his new venture praise the Lord. Would he be soon in to see the doctor? Yes? Amen.

After I checked in I grabbed the first magazine I saw – without regards to content - and put it in front of my entire face, lest he was looking for someone else to talk at. So instead he blathered to another young woman to my left. I think she made the fatal mistake of mentioning she was a pharmacist too. This poor girl must have broken several mirrors and had an entire herd of black cats walk across her path recently.

When the young pharmacist escaped (she practically lunged for the nurse who called her name to come in), Bigfoot got on his cell phone – I’m guessing he’s the type who’s not comfortable with silence. I know now that his daughter is in the hospital and on top of everything else, has a urinary track infection, can you imagine? But she was instructed to “be the salt” or something like that and Amen she was going to be all right.

Don't I look lovely?