Wednesday, February 23, 2005

I know where this guy's coming from,,,,

The receptionist

There's nothing worse than a snotty doctor's receptionist who insists you tell her what is wrong in a room full of other patients. I know most of us have experienced this, and I love the way this old guy handled it.

An 86 year old man walked into a crowded doctor's office. As he approached the desk, the receptionist said, "Yes sir, what are you seeing the doctor for today?"

"There's something wrong with my dick," he replied.

The receptionist became irritated and said, "You shouldn't come into a crowded office and say things like that."

"Why not? You asked me what was wrong and I told you," he said.

The receptionist replied, "You've obviously caused some embarrassment in this room full of people. You should have said there is something wrong with your ear or something and then discussed the problem further with the doctor in private."

The man replied, "You shouldn't ask people things in a room full of others, if the answer could embarrass anyone."

The man walked out, waited several minutes and then reentered.

The receptionist smiled smugly and asked, "Yes?"

"There's something wrong with my ear," he stated.

The receptionist nodded approvingly and smiled, knowing he had taken her advice. "And what is wrong with your ear, Sir?"

"I can't piss out of it," the man replied. The doctor's office erupted in laughter.



I got my truck back today and it still has manual locks. After a phone conversation with the body shop dude who told me I was "making a mountain out of a mole hill" which caused me to blow like Mt. St Helen, I told the redneck asshole to bring my truck to me, don't fix it, don't touch it any more than necessary. Then I called the insurance adjuster and told him what they'd attempted to do.

They did finally bring my truck around noon and as I was leaving the office to go home today at 4:30 I discovered I didn't have my cell phone. I searched the office, my truck, and my purse and have decided that it must have fallen out of my purse in that damned car of their's that I was driving. The car that they rented to a lady as soon as they picked it up at the office. A car that's in Dewitt, 45 miles from here.
As soon as I got home and called them and discovered this, I had to call and temporarily shut off my cell phone service.

I'm beginning to feel like I have a magnet attached to my ample backside that attracts the worst kinds of luck. I hope if my phone's in that car the driver is an honest person and returns it.

Damn I'm a danger to myself when I'm under stress.

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