Why we are the way we are

So we called the CVS as soon as we saw what could be the beginnings of a cold sore*.

We told nice Melanie at the CVS the prescription we needed. She said she would fax the information to our primary doc. She suggested we call them to make sure the prescription went through.

So we did.

Mind you, this is the same primary who, every time we call, thinks we're our Uncle Old Man Snap and not us. We give our birthdate, explain that we are the younger and better-looking Old Man Snap, and ask, nicely, for assistance.

"What do you need, now?" the woman asked.

"(We) have a cold sore and (we) need the prescription to get rid of it before the onslaught occurs and (we're) ugly for a week," we replied.

"OK. I'll let the doctor know."

"OK, but could you tell (us) when it will be ready?"

"No."

"Um. OK, even a ballpark figure?"

"We have patients in the office now," she said, voice as pleasant as a truck slamming on its brakes on the Jersey turnpike right before it rear-ends a group of tourists from Ohio, killing them all. "Patients that are seeing the doctors. No one is available right now."

"Could you at least tell (us) if it'll be today?"

"YES."

"OK. Thank you."

There's more, but we'll spare you the part where the doctor's answering service asks us if the cold sore is "around your lips" and when the doctor who called back lectured us on calling the emergency contact number for non-emergencies when we called the non-emergency number in the first place.

This is why, ya'll. We don't hate people. We just have an extremely low tolerance these days for assholes.

* not the herpes. Cold sore. We get them when we're stressed and/or overly-caffeinated. The rest of us is all good and healthy. But thanks for your concern.