What is it with people who work as receptionists in doctors' offices. Why do they all act like they are god's gift to mankind and the rest of us would just wither and die if they were not there to handle such complicated tasks as pull out our file folders, answer the telephone, make copies, and yell at us about the need to have a referral. Oh yeah, and earn a whopping $8 per hour for such intellectual tasks that require a middle school education and the requirement to be alive.
Case in point - I took the Tingster for her second post-op appointment at Dr. Benett's office on Thursday. The waiting room was full of patients, and there were two receptionists behind the front desk - one is an older woman named Constance who is quite brusque with the patients, and the other is a young, blond girl whose facial expression is so sour, she looks like she's got a telephone pole stuck up her ass. Anyway, I walk up to them to check in the Tingster and, without even looking up at me, the blond girl barks out, "Last name!" So I give her our last name, and she then wheels around in her chair, pulls out the Tingster's file, flips through it, and then says (still hasn't looked up at me yet), "You need a referral."
No we don't, I reply. We had gotten a referral right before the surgery in December that ensured we were good for follow-up visits. She sighs, doesn't say anything, and then whips a bunch of paperwork at me on a clipboard. "You need to update your information for the new year. Fill this out." No please, no thank you, no smile, no how-do-you-do. Was she TSA officer at Dulles Airport on the weekends? A United Airlines flight attendant in her previous line of work? A cosmetics salesperson at Macy's as her second job? She's certainly got the holier-than-thou attitude that's required of these positions.
So I fill out the paperwork and return them to her. She still hasn't looked at me, and instead, tells me again that I need a referral. I tell her I was not told I needed a referral for this visit; ergo, I did not have one. She bends her head down low and mutters something to herself that only her second and third chin could hear. I ask her if the doctor is still able to see us, or do I need to get a referral and make an appointment for another visit. She finally looks up at me and proceeds to talk to me slowly, enunciating each word as if I'm a moron: "I. said. I. will. need. to. check. with. the. office. manager. You. need. to. go. sit. down."
I finally had it. So I respond in like, speaking very slowly and loudly, so everyone would hear me: "And. you. need. to. change. your. attitude."
The look of horror on her face was almost comical. Seriously, she had no idea that she was being rude to patients? Did she think she was actually being nice? Polite? Respectful? Because believe me, she was the farthest thing from Miss Manners that I have come across in a long time.
Apparently, I was not the only one who thought so. On my way back to my seat, several people thanked me for speaking up. One old lady was so grateful she came and sat next to me. That was a bit much, since it's not like we're in elementary school and it's lunchtime and if you're sitting next to the cool kid, the bully won't pick on you and steal your Twinkie or your milk money.
Seriously though, people, SPEAK UP the next time someone treats you like shit. This idiot was a bully, and when someone confronted her about it, she backed down. In fact, she pulled a complete 180. After I complained to the office manager (who came out to sort out the mess about the referral - not my fault, in the end), the blond chic was all of a sudden everyone's best friend. To everyone entering, it was "Good afternoon, sir / ma'am." To everyone leaving, it was, "Have a nice day!" The funny thing is that when she said that to someone, he turned around, looked at her, and said, "Oh, are you finally talking to me now?" Ha! That was a better comeback than mine.
Maybe the requirement to be alive is a bit much. At least the deceased won't give us attitude.
