MEDICAL OFFICE'S "NO CELL PHONE" POLICY ENCOURAGES DOOFUS TO LOUDLY DISCUSS CYST ON CELL PHONE

It has been another weekend where I am really glad that I don't own a gun. Saturday was dominated by waiting two hours at an urgent care center. Fine, I can actually wait with the best of them. And the office had a policy, as evidenced by no fewer than seven or eight prominent signs, that all cellular phones should be turned off. So, at least the wait should have been relatively free of irritation.

Enter Fat Oaf #1. I could tell he was trouble from the minute he came in. He was sharing way too much information with the poor receptionist, who finally had to tell him to sit down to fill out his paperwork. He would occasionally go back up to the window to talk to her some more...about past foot problems, about changes in his diet, about his plans for the day. And for whatever reason, he was carrying around two briefcases. I can only imagine what kind of business he does.

Anyway, despite the signs, he sits down and pulls out his cell phone to call an acquaintance. To make matters worse, he went into harrowing detail about the cyst that had necessitated medical treatment. He also unintentionally informed the 20 or so of us in the waiting room that sometimes they just drain them but sometimes they have to cut them out. But they always come back.

I was so irritated that I actually moved one of the signs so that it was facing directly at him. After another couple of minutes, I pushed it closer toward him. He didn't get it, but a few other people in the office thought it was funny.

So, then I am at CVS waiting for some antibiotics. Enter Fat Oaf #2, who was either keeling over to die on the pharmacy's countertop or also waiting for his prescription. I am still not sure. He was using both a shopping cart and a wall for support, and because no one could tell what he was doing, no one else moved up to the counter for help.

Good times.