French Is For Iggy Pop/Iggy Pop Is For French

There are no thoughts in a medical center. Minds are made up already and there is no new information. A diagnosis is not news. Everything is brought in. Nothing leaves.

I spent a sunny day in West Health Urgent Care Center. The gentleman in front of me in line had the same birthday as the receptionist. The receptionist had the same birthday as me. The gentleman in front of me in line had the same middle name as my first name. He works at a Subway and apparently cut himself while working at the Subway. The manager's name is Melissa Dahl. Hopefully, Subway will take care of his injury. But probably not.

I chose not to sit with all the other patients waiting to be seen. There were too many of them. I understood that I was last in line, but having to stare at all of them the whole time would have made the duration of my wait go by muuuuuuuuch too slowly.

Luckily, there was a front desk around the corner where the whole front area allowed for endless entertainment. One case was especially amusing. I hope it wasn't anything too critical, but a young girl, probably high-school as she was speaking of "graduating on Thursday", would not stop sniffling and squirming. The pain was just too much, I guess. It seemed that MacDonald's, which her father eventually provided, did some sort of trick. She would grasp her sides, hunch over, and sniffle in mild agony. She also talked on the phone, spoke jovially to an out-patient she knew, and walked around. It musn't have been too serious, but God bless melodramatic teenagers.

During my time there, I had only sixty cents. No Starbucks, no Dr. Pepper, nothing. They did have mini-Ice Mountain waters for free, but even I felt really cheap drinking more than one. I should have ate before setting out. Express care may be cheaper than the emergency room, but you could wind up dying while you wait. *

Another amusing instance: a woman came in the front and wanted a wheel-chair. The receptionist nabbed one for her and told her to stand still while while she came around from behind. The old woman kept turning. The receptionist asked her to stand still so she could come around from behind with the wheel-chair.
"What?" asked the old woman.
"I want to come around from behind," said the receptionist.
"I'm sorry," said the old woman as she kept turning around, "I don't understand."

There is no loss of attractive ladies in Minnesota, only smart people in over-sized sunglasses.

Excellent bathrooms at West Health. The hand dryer in the men's room was from a future where over-compensation holds sway because man and accelerated air is inefficient. The Xcelerator hand dryer could knock out a three-year-old.

"There's that bag," said the receptionist as she looked out the front window at an approaching woman, apparently returning from lunch.

*As I was being lead to the x-ray, I discovered a granola bar in my lowest right pocket.