The Rudest Place on Earth

There are many places you may think of that are rude. Now I know people are usually rude but I am taking that to the next level. I mean a place that rude people are attracted to, flock to, get their horrible energy from.

So what is your rude place? Macy's the day after Christmas? The mall parking lot? A crowded bus? The DMV? Your mother's Thanksgiving table?

My rude place is a doctor's office. But not just any office. No, this is the office of Dr. Bland (names barely changed to protect the innocent) a highly sought after "enhancement" dermatologist.

Note: Before you get all preachy on me, yes I get Botox. Yes, I know its poison. No, I don't care what you think.

This week I visited Dr. Bland and in his waiting room was a plethora of extremely enhanced, 60-ish women who were all looking over each other to see who looked better. There was one expecption, a smallish 14 year old girl who was there with her overprotective mom and having a fit over one zit the size of an ant hill.

Every woman there insisted to the lowly, hourly wage receptionists that Dr. Bland "wanted" to see her and that she needed to get in first. This turned into an all-out shouting match with the receptionists, who could be zombie stand ins. I checked in with the receptonist and the only thing they could do was smile meekly. I had a feeling I was in for a long wait. The shouting, gesturing, sour faces and preening was to only be broken up by a delivery of 25 red ballons for Dr. Bland. Turns out, it was his birthday.

Horrified that they would have to see Dr. Bland empty handed on his big day and full of fear he would unleash his retribution with an over-filled needle, they all told the receptionsist they would be back in hour so they could go to Needless Markup and buy him some overpriced trinket. Leaving me and a small zit alone.

The nurse called me in and the first thing I noticed is that Dr. Bland had redecorated and he had in his office a huge black and white photo of himself in his medical white coat injecting a much younger, partially nude man. Balloons were everywhere. Dr. Bland obviously loved latex in all forms.

The deed was done and I went to the desk to pay or as my confused Cuban/Puerto Rican says "handed over your first born." As I reached into my wallet the woman next to me, who looked like she has spent every waking moment baking in the sun, shouted "HERE TRY THIS ONE!" She shoved a Platinum American Express card in front of me to the receptionist. I turned to her and said "I'm trying to pay." "SO AM I" she screamed. The receptionist told her "Ma'am this card doesn't work either."

Since two rudes make a right, I said "Well I'll only have to give you ONE card, because it works" and handed her my plastic generic Mastercard.

Botox may make you look younger. But apparently it unleashes a rath of rude.