bookmark_borderEntitled middle-aged monster

There was a most annoying woman at the doctor’s office today.

She marched right in and treated the acting receptionist like shit. All huffy and puffy about something. I couldn’t really hear all that was said but he tone was hard to miss — even by bad-ears me.

V. at the desk — yes, I know her first name and I also know she’s filling in for the receptionist who’s on holidays — rolled her eyes at me. I like V. a lot, she’s a medical assistant (and a doctor in her homeland) and she’s not easily flustered by such entitled middle-aged monsters. She’s a tough cookie that V. A bit snarky, too. Just my kinda gal.

A few minutes later my doctor came in from outside. He was indeed running a bit late but so what. He’s not allowed to step out to the bank or whatever he was doing?

But the woman (henceforth known as Ms. MMM) audibly grunted when he came in. She tired to make eye contact with me.

Another patient was a called in to the examining room. Ms. MMM looked like she was going to spit out some sour taste in he mouth.

A few moments later Ms. MMM looked at me and asked what time my appointment was — like she was trying to get me on her side.

No way, sister. I’ve been coming to this office since I left my pediatrician and I’m not buying into your boorish behaviour. I told her “not yet” — since that was true and there was no way I was going to say 15 minutes ago.

Dr. H. treated me until Dr. Prada joined his practice as a new doctor. I have nothing but the greatest respect for both of them. Dr. H treated my late mother with compassion and he helped me through a difficult part of my teen years when she was getting worse. And I’ve written about Dr. Prada before: he’s wonderful. But that’s not the point. The point is we are just waiting for a doctor who is hardly ever behind, so relax.

A musical chime sounded. Yeah, Ms. MMM was getting a business call. I don’t know, maybe she was a CEO (her cheap-looking shoes did not give that one away) but the call sounded like it could have waited. Plus she was a loud talker. (No one cares about the meeting Ms. MMM).

My doctor came out with his patient. He was explaining something to the frail elderly woman and (I guessed) her son in Chinese. Ms. MMM tried to catch my eye again.

Then it was my turn. I skipped into the examining room. I’m next, lady.

Life is short and there’s no sense in being a sourpuss. I say this today on what would have been my sister Lee-Ann’s 39th birthday.

Life is short for all of us and far too short for the unlucky among us. And the way we act in our daily dealings impacts others. I know this to be true.

And I have a blog.

bookmark_borderPho no!

I love authentic Pho. You know, the kind with a real hunk of pork in it and some crab claws that came from a crab not some formed white fish with flavorings. The kind with broth that simmers with flavour and makes you wish you had room for more.

This is the type of soup you can get in the Junction at a place on Pacific Avenue. Go there if you crave some fine soup, you will thank me. Better yet, invite me to go with you!

Today I was craving Pho so I went to a fairly new place in Chinatown for lunch.

I was not impressed. The crab was formed fish stuff and there was only one small piece in the entire bowl; the soup was mostly noodles and the broth was lackluster. I won’t go back there.

Now I’m craving a Vietnamese-style sandwich for dinner but I don’t know of any good places nearby. Suggestions welcomed.

I guess I’ll go and make myself a salad.