Fruitcakes & dealers

Lately I’ve been in my psychiatrist’s waiting room with the most fucking annoying people.

#1 on this list is and always will be is pharmaceutical reps. You can see them sneering and trying not to breathe the same air as the mentally defective peasants, and then when your doctor comes out to get you they leap in the way and start pitching to them. Fo’ real? Don’t play me that way bitch. You’re not more important than anyone else plus this is MY FUCKING APPOINTMENT TIME. And I have a lotta crazy shit to unload so back off. Today, this (albeit crazy) woman came back in and was asking if her doc was still free because she checked on an rx and the generic was still $600 with her insurance. The receptionist said something like “oh dear, for the generic? Really?”. As the woman nodded one rep made eye contact with the other and rolled her eyes like, “pfft yeah right; what a liar, that’s not possible” and the other one made an imperceptible head nod like, “yup, loon!”. So because the room is small we could hear everything…this woman takes four 30 mg tabs of adderall everyday, and I imagine that, too, was terribly bourgeois for them. Then the woman was going to wait and looked around for a seat, said there were none and went to sit in her car. There was a woman in a single chair, a row of three connected chairs (sans armrests so you’re basically on a couch) with an empty seat in the middle, a set of two connected chairs with one free seat (bitch rep #2 was sitting there with her netbook), and finally me with an open seat next to me. Now, yes, I am very obviously sick and I brought my own full size tissue box with me (which my psych remarked on almost as if were abnormal in some way) so who wants to sit next to that right? But I felt rejected by a god damn adult woman with ADHD, presumably. She rejected the other seats too so I felt better, but like…no one ever wants to sit next to anyone EVEN WHEN YOU HAVE TO. Christ, everybody put your big girl panties on and suck it the fuck up; we don’t all gave cooties. Well, I do, but how do they know my nose isn’t red all the time (from snorting crack!) and the half-dead, pale complexion isn’t normal. Okay, well the last one is….but MORE pale and sickly than usual. Like an albino Norwegian.

It doesn’t matter. I looked like shit but I didn’t care because I felt like shit. I think my psych was slightly horrified I still came. I explained I was worried about not giving enough notice and she was like, no that’s fine…I’m going to Lysol your seat when you leave. Then we talked about the genocide in Rwanda for half the session. She’s awesome.

So back to the waiting room, which btw I think I’ve complained about the people first thing as I get into her office (where she probably scribbles: “antisocial, paranoid, quick to anger, impatient.”), last time there was an old guy maybe 70ish who talked REALLY loud as if he were deaf but I think he was just an oblivious assface. He had a 20ish girl with him, either his aid or granddaughter, and he was pestering her about not coming to see his new house that night. She kept saying her friend had an art exhibit that was that night, and that night only and she wanted to go but he seemed not to understand that she could see his shit hole anytime but this was a special event. She kept trying to lower her voice to make him unconsciously lower his too but then he’d just get louder. She said something about going to the dentist and how much it was and he literally roared with laughter for, like, an hour. When he recovered he was like, “why do you need to go to the dentist, just take care of your teeth.” Befuddled but patient, she tried to explain that normal fucking people who still have their real teeth need to get them professionally cleaned and do check ups, especially, she said, because she had some gingivitis. Hahahahahhhahahahhahaha. Lol. Rofl. Lmao. Right? Well that’s what he thought. Then he said something like “okay okay, good excuse” as if she just made that up for him to excuse her poor oral hygiene. At one point she got up to go out to the car or make a call and I give her credit because she came back. I would have left him there.

Today, when I came in and sat down next to a woman who finds it appropriate to wear spandex exercise clothes to some place other than the gym (hey if I’m going to stop somewhere pre or post gym I bring a sweater at least to cover shit up) and she treated it as though I came and sat down next to her in a room of empty seats so I could molest her thighs, I was already prepared for waiting room shenanigans. I’m okay with people pretending we’re in little invisible bubbles and no one else exists because we all know we’re there because shit got too real and we all went insane, and possibly even when two strangers are talking and I try to say something and they ignore me, but this was like…I don’t even know. I never interject but I wanted to scream.

She had clearly said something to the 2nd rep before I came in about her looking familiar and vice versa and when I entered gym clothes lady was interrogating her about where she might know her from.

Gym clothes lady: have you ever worked at such-n-such place?

Bitch rep 2: no.

Gym clothes lady: have you worked at this place? Do you know Polly flimflam?

Bitch rep 2: uhh, no.

Gym clothes lady: well I worked here and here and here and I went to this college and this one and I’m now going to this one and I volunteer someplace. Do we know each other from there????!!!!

Bitch rep 2 (who I’m almost sympathetic to now): NO.

Gym clothes lady: I also went to high school in this district!

Bitch rep 2: well, I’m not from here…

Gym clothes lady: where are you from?

Bitch rep 2: blah blah ville.

Gym clothes lady: what do you do??

Bitch rep 2: uh, I’m a pharmaceutical rep.

Gym clothes lady: ah, okay then do you know Ralph pajamas?

Bitch rep 2: no.

Gym clothes lady: Sally teacup?

Bitch rep 2: no.

Gym clothes lady: Cindy muffinface????? (rep just shaking her head at this point because there’s not really a break to answer) trixie davenport???? Jelly poplins?? Hermione granger????? Muscles Vanderbilt??? Hugo Chavez????

I thought I was going to lose my fucking mind. I wanted to yell “omg she doesn’t know any of these people and she never will; stop listing every person you’ve ever known!!!” but then it abruptly stopped when gym clothes lady’s doc came to fetch her for what I hope was electric shock therapy. Holy shit. Then the rep spotted a doctor and like a lion pouncing on an antelope harangued him about seroquel and what he gave to his bipolar patients. She talked so fast he was still trying to digest what was happening. My psych came to get me and I (with an excuse me, sadly) barged in between them all because they were blocking the nearest way to go and I’ll be damned if I’m going to walk all the way around the partition because of those harpies. Then when I did my usual “I hate everyone in the waiting room” I inadvertently tattled about the eye rolling which seemed to concern her and she said she was going to find out who they were and maybe talk with the other doctors about banning reps from hanging out in the waiting room. TODAY I MADE A DIFFERENCE. And probably infected a dozen people.


~ by hollaphonic on 04/19/2012.

3 Responses to “Fruitcakes & dealers”

  1. p.s. i typed this whole thing out on an ipod touch. be impressed! it took four hours.

  2. Whoa, I’m totally impressed and glad you tattled. They should not be hogging seats and on their damn Netbooks not letting actual patients sit down. This is what comes from seeing the insurance company as the customer instead of the patient. The only pharma rep I can stand is Gus on Psych.

    Also, please tell me why I cannot check the box to get an email for follow-up comments after I sign in. I’m going to have to leave a second comment in order to be able to check the box. 😦

  3. Yup, not grayed out now. It’s not just your blog, this happens to me all the time. I am pouting.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: