Should I be weirded out to be turned away from the Urgent Care down the street after mentioning I had a regular physician, but just couldn't raise him on a Saturday? This happened after waiting a literal, honest to god, ten minutes for someone to come to the desk to even note that someone had entered their facility. I do believe this nice neighborhood of mine is hosting an insurance-exploiting pill mill, isn't it? Especially after, and not to profile but I'm totally profiling here, they were ready to welcome three ladies who came in right after me. Each lacked a full set of chompers and were pretty much the dictionary definitions of "hard bitten," "blowsy," and "guest of the Jerry Springer show," respectively.
The reason I'd even gone was that at some point last night my back decided to lock up. Even having given two weeks to my job, (perhaps because of it) they still want a doctor's note if I'm taking the time off... and I don't want to rock the boat when I have over two weeks of vacation to have paid out on my last check. I first developed back problems 15 years ago, and know how to treat it at home, but couldn't be left to my own devices. Long story short, after several phone calls, jolting car rides, and stops to three different care clinics before I could actually see a doctor; my last, biggest question might be, should I be offended I seem too... something... to be lavished with pain meds by the aforementioned pill mill?
I guess I should be flattered. I haven't shaven in weeks, and with my scruffy cheeks and heavily grown-in neck, seem to have developed a face mullet. I'm overdue for a haircut. My jeans need a wash and my jacket smells of campfire.
Yet still I exude "class."