Much to the dismay of many that know me (and have to be seen in public with me) I HATE shoes. I don’t wear them unless I have to. And I mean.. when I HAVE to. I would rather sprint while cussing my heart out across hot parking lots in the bleating sunshine than just put on a pair of shoes. I don’t know why – I just hate them.
So.. on my way to the doctors this morning, I left the house as normal. No shoes. I get to the entrance of the complex I live in, and they had just mopped the already slippery ramp up to the pedestrian exit. So as is expected of someone with my expert hazard skills, I slipped and did a wierd piroette type spin and landed in what I can only describe as a surfer about to be smashed into by a giant wave.
All three cleaners looked down at the floor. My reputation precedes me apparently. I grumbled and muttered but I was in a hurry so my newly learned ballet move would have to be forgotten about.
The taxi driver, was a woman. Now, I don’t mean any disrespect to South African’s, or women – but South African women CAN NOT drive. My theory is that there are too many mirrors to look in, and it distracts them. So, my driver stalled twice before we got going. Her stopping distance was enough to have me involuntarily clutching at the dashboard. I am NOT a nervous passenger. I have been in high speed car chases and been perfectly COOL because you know the person can drive. But when someone looks down at the gear stick, and then steers in the direction they are looking in… you know you have problems. Then she started to talk. Now… forgive me… but if you can barely focus on driving in a straight line and changing gears at the same time, the LAST thing you should be doing is TALKING.
Once inside, first trip was the physiotherapist. First time I had ever been to her, and if there could be such a thing as a physio critic, I would be one. I detest clammy handed limp wristed soft massages. I have walked out of physio offices half way through massages for that reason. I have a knot the size of a golf ball in my shoulder and war must be waged upon it. Don’t offer the fucker a cup of tea and make small talk.Kill it!!
I LIKED HER. She had killer strong hands, and ignored me when I yelped and clutched onto the sides of the plinth. Then she stuck needles into my intercostal muscles, and as excruciating as it was, all I could think of to say to her was “I fucking love you!”
From there, feeling like a tender but awesome million bucks, I went off to the doctor in the same building to get a repeat script for my meds.
He knows my face because I am a regular, and so we skip the pleasantries which is nice. I list what I want and he gives me a print out. I tell him that they are making it easier for addicts to fake prescriptions. Its a print out I could duplicate in 5 minutes. At that point it was his turn to give me the ‘face’.
So off I go to the pharmacy. I stand in the queue and mentally prepare myself for the pharmacist that will be tending to me. He has the people skills of a booger and I find it really hard to humour him. He asks me the same questions when he knows the answers. He does it just to annoy me. I know this because he only started doing it when I told him a few months ago that he needs to go easy on the cologne. I really wasn’t trying to be insulting. But… my eyes watered and it was very strong. So now he is just a dick.
Then, on the way out the pharmacy, someone had spilled anti bacterial soap on the floor, sow what do I do??? I step RIGHT in it and perform yet another ungraceful swan lake performance. The whole medical center probably heard me shriek “OH FOR FUCK SAKES!!!”
I have volume control issues when im angry… “Some old person is going to break a hip on this shit!!” Not one of my finest moments.. but really… its a medical center where most of the people staggering about are like 90 years old.
I order a different taxi and wait outside for him to arrive. It is now bucketing with rain, and when he pulls up he bolts around the car to open my door for me, only to realise he didn’t unlock the doors from the inside. I thought it was funny… he did not.
So it was an eventful day. Wooh!