Waiting Room Chattering

I sat in a waiting room yesterday for two or three hours while Anna had surgery.  It was actually a sun room outside the waiting room.  It was away from the TV so I could read.  I think my face was medium rare when it was all over.

Also sitting there was a red headed lady that looked much like my late cousin Alice.  She looked like she really would prefer not to talk.  However, she did give me polite nod when I sat down, but went back her magazine.

I sat there and glanced at her when I turned a page. I thought that we probably have some things in common to talk about, we might know some same people.  A tough nut to crack.

Finally I said, "I think I should be on a rotisserie".  She laughed.  Then we talked and talked, then talked some more.  She was in the Navy, a dental technician stationed in Iceland,  she lived in New York, she owns her own business, and her live-in boyfriend, who is having a similar operation as Anna, by the same doctor, is her employee.  Her business is manufacturers' representative.  They live in Kennesaw. 

By pokes, jabs, hints, jokes, I came to the conclusion we are not related or have any common friends or acquaintances  (which is the first time that has happened).  But we carried on a lively conversation without hardly a thing in common.

Hanging Out In the ER Waiting Room

Hanging Out In ER Waiting Room. A man in his 30s or early 40s was seated near me. He twist and turned wailing, moaning, and crying. His cell phone did a song and dance like chimes, he answered without looking at the caller i.d. And said, "Hi Pumpkin!". I could tell it was his daughter. He told her to do her homework and Mom would be home soon. He also told her "No, you can not go over to Nancy's and play!". Then he kidded her a little, which I think was a ploy to let her know they were still buddies. He said bye, clicked off and immediately went back moaning, wailing, groaning, crying and vomiting into a plastic bag. Then his phone rang again and whoever it was he told (very loudly) that he was being completely ignored by the staff in the ER. He went on to say he had kidney stones, two to be exact, he told how big they were in metric measurements and he also knew where they were, one in each kidney. I suspect he was having to wait because thr ER was crowded with sick and injured. I decided it would do no good to tell him that I went to the ER at 5am Christmas morning and they immediately took me to the back.

Also I had a nice conversation with a pleasant young lady that had a thick accent. She had been waiting 3 hours. She asked me was the ER very expensive. She was wearing braces on teeth, which an't cheap.

Waiting Room Man Bits of Wisdom

We took my mother-in-law to the doctor the other day.

I let them out at the door and went to park.  On the ground floor of the building the  specialist is in is a little eatery.  It has just a few tables and a counter with  lot of packaged eats and maybe a grill.  I decided to try their coffee (and the price.  As I walked in there were three people behind the counter talking.   The man doing the talking had a very flouncy feminine way about him, he was in his 30s.  He was talking and the other man and woman, in their 50s or 60s, were working unloading boxes, and getting things ready.  The flouncy feminine way man said after he was grown because of an accident both of his arms  were broken and his mother had to bathe him from head to toe every day.

The middle age lady rolled her eyes and said, "You go what you gotta do, I reckon".  

I got a cup of coffee and went up the elevator to the doctor's office.

I brought along a book to read in the waiting room.  I f I really had my heart set on reading, I should have picked another seat.  When I first sat next to a man about my age he I saw he was taken away with FOX NEWS.  He looked dumbfounded by all the bad things that are happening in the world, especially where they are getting ready to hold the Winter Olympics,  which he told me was in Georgia, Germany.

He reminded me of the character on Saturday Night Live played by Bobby Moynihan  who plays the Drunk Uncle and also a character who  just gets a little of the facts and completely mixes them up into a completely different meaning.  This guy did too. 

He shared his wisdom with me for about 30 minutes.  I should have brought a pad and pencil to record it all:

The congressmen are communists:  Why else would they try shut the United States Government?

Do you know what the punishment for Treason is?  Death!  They should take all those congressmen that tried to shut down the United States and shoot them for treason.  POW!  Make an  example out of them!

He lives in Rome, Georgia, born  there and lived there all is life.  I asked him did he know Peggy's (a  statewide famous whorehouse in Rome, that the law looked the other way - very popular in the 50s and 60s).  He said if I ever went I probably met his daddy.  He said his Daddy was always at Peggy's, painting rooms free for them.

A well dressed elderly man sitting close by got up and moved.  I wondered if he was a ministered and he knew about Peggy's and didn't want to be reminded.

He said he believes all the big companies that lay people off are secretly communists - why else would people try to put  Americans on the street homeless and  starving?   Another company bought out his company and laid off most of old timers and brought their own people in.  He thought they had to be communists.

Sadly, he told me his 24 year old son took his own life.  

He said those congressmen hate Obama so bad because  he is black they would do anything, even destroy America to make Obama look  bad.  Communists!     He said.

As we talked we found out we both had the same prostate operation and the same urinating problems afterwards.

Another person got up and moved.  We then had empty seats around us and the rest of the room was crowded, which is strange because we were in the best space for watching TV.

A Day at the Hospital

I spent some time at the Windy Hill hospital yesterday.  My sister was undergoing surgery there.

Driving on the way down it looked like I was going to be early, again.  To utilize my time I pulled in an automatic carwash.  You drive in the building and a metal frame thing with all kinds of water spouts and soap guns squirt the car.  I was sitting there watching the giant machine do it job and when the big frame went by spraying the car I saw that on the shotgun side of the car, water was pouring in.  I thought the window was up, but apparently it wasn't up tight enough.  It got the seat and inside door wet.  I did the only thing I knew to do, roll down my windows  and used the blow dry drive method.

In the waiting room  at one point I was craving caffeine.   I went looking for a place on the campus that would sell coffee, such as a cafe' or something.  I found the cafe'.  I found the beverage section and they had big thermoses with coffee.  One for  regular and one for caffeine-free.  The regular was empty.  I asked the cashier  was there some other place for coffee, this one was out of regular.  She told me she would make me a new cup.  She got to work doing that and juggling the people getting  in line to have their food rung up and also carrying on a conversation with a friend about the vacation her friend just returned from.  Every place I got to stand it seemed I was in her way.  Finally I found a place in a corner to stand.  I was thought  one standing in a corner looked a little paranoia - but I at least I was out of the way.  When the coffee finished dribbling into the thermos I was the first to pour me a cup.  After all, I am the one inspired her to make it.  I beat someone else who was about to get a cup.

The cashier would not take money for it.  She said she put me though enough already and she was thanking me for being so patient.

The coffee tasted better than usual.... was that because it was free?

In the waiting room a mother and a 2.5 year old daughter were waiting on their husband/daddy  that was having a procedure.  The little girl was very cute and was just full of cute facial expressions and her reasoning  was even cuter.  The little girl, in her coloring book was drawing circles.  I couldn't free hand draw a circle as perfect as she was doing if my life depended on it... I couldn't outline a quarter or half dollar to be as rounded as she was drawing.... even if I used a compass she could beat me, and effortless at that.

Her mother drew a circle, sort of lopsided, like I could draw and put lines poking out of the circle.  It looked like an amoeba with wild hairs.  The little girl looked at her mother's art work and said her mother drew a rabbit.  I cracked up laughing. 

A nurse told the mother with the girl to go get the car and pick up her husband at the awning.  Her and the child left and in a few minutes they returned.  Mama was looking embarrassed.  She asked the nurse behind the counter would she please get her husband's car keys.

After my sister recovered we went back to recovery room to see her.  Walking down the room with beds with people recovering on each  side somebody said, "Hey Mister Post Office!"

It was a supervisor I knew from the post office.  He didn't remember my name.  I said, "Hello Bob!"

Bob and I was transferred to Marietta about the same time.  In Atlanta he worked in transportation.  Everyday he would come to our office and pick up reports and we chatted.  This went on for several years.

After we  both were Marietta Postal employees we saw each other on the workroom floor daily and politely spoke to each other.

After a couple of years of working in the same building you would think he might know me.  Then, one day at Target he and I both were standing at the watch display case studying the watches.  Finally he looked up at me, and said, "Pardon me, do you work for the post office, it seems I have seen you someplace before."

"Bob"  We have seen each other for just about every day for the past ten years or so.

I could go on about Bob and his  communication skills, but I'll save it for a rainy day.

Free Range Kids

                                  Street Kids a.k.a. Free Range Kids

These are notes I made on my i-pad during my hours at the hosptital Tuesday.

 My sister was having leg surgery. My sister Frances and I were sitting in the waiting room at the hospital talking about this and that. Frances said the other day on GOOD MORNING AMERICA they were talking about free range children, which is a new concept in day childcare. The idea is to put a big group of children in a huge outside area and let romp and play unsupervised. Let them make their own rules. They feel this cconcept will strenghten the individual character.

I think it will teach them young in life that the strongest bully rules.

Frances remembered that "Free Range Children" were exactly what we were. Or more appropriately, "Street Kids". Our Free Range was all of the Clay Homes and all of downtown Marietta. We didn't check in with our parents unless we got hurt or were hungry. Once a dog chased me and I was afraid to confront it to get home, so I went to my grandparents' home in south Marietta a mile away. I was 4 or 5 then. Another time when I was about 3 my mother was ironing and listening to WFOM Radio. The radio was airing live of children in Santa Clause's lap telling what they wanted for Christmas. The mobile was set up at Sears on Atlanta Street and she recognized my squeaky voice.

Our neighbors' kids are Free Range; too Free Range. 911 has been caled on them several times. In fact, Family Services has threatened to take their children.

More notes about being at the hospital: The nurse wheeling our younger sister Bonnie back to us (Frances & I) said, " I'm carrying you back to your parents." During our four to five hour wait in the waiting room a lady pushed a full size harp into the room and strummed enchanged harp music. Nobody seemed to noticed her. I thought it might be out of place to applaud her or give her a tip and there was no hat throw money in.

Frances and I checked out the new restaurant Bistro at the hospital. It has the cool tile & rock decor of a upper scale restaurant. We both had Georgia trout with stone grounded grits. It was good and very reasonable. I charged mine with my credit card. Guess what? The ticket I signed there was no blank to leave a tip. At the bottom it said, "Gradtuities will not be accepted.". That is almost good as coupons!

IT'S A smal WORLD (AGAIN)

Tuesday I spent a couple hours in the Cancer Center of Wellstar Hospitals waiting area.  I wasn't the reason we were there.  It was someone else we carried.

In a chair near me was a small female, dark hair, and dark skin.  I thought she was probably decended from Far Eastern Indians.  But somehow she did not have the Indian humble speech roll.  Her speech pattern was very much New Jersey or nearby.  I thought she was about 12 years old.  She is 35.

We were sitting in front of a TV.  I commented on the fierce weather and hoped it wouldn't do any damage like Katrina.  She told me it wouldn't, as hurricanes go, it was the weakest.  She sounded educated and knew what she was talking about.

Because also the Republican Convention was also on the news, I told her I was outside the convention hall in Atlantic City, on the Boardwalk when Lyndon B. Johnson accepted the Democratic Nomination for President, and it was his birthday, I added.  She said her grandfather was there too!  Same place, and still talks about it.

Evidently I still do too.

I told her I was stationed in Lakehurst, New Jersey, only about 40 miles from Atlantic City.  She said her grandfather was also in the Navy then, she didn't remember where he was stationed, but it was in the middle of New Jersey.  Lakehurst is the only Naval base I know of in the middle of New Jersey.

Here is the clincher:

I mentioned I retired from the U.S. Postal Service - I knew it was coming:  Grandaddy did too.  She told me worked in central Atlanta and transferred out to a branch, but still part of the Atlanta Post Office.  I worked at the Atlanta Postal Service for about 13 or 14 years then transferred to Marietta, which was not part of the Atlanta Post Office.

At Lakehurst, New Jersey and the Atlanta Post Office  there is a good chance I knew this guy, if not by name, by facial recognition.  It is a small world.

Back to the 35 year old granddaughter:  It occurred to me that she probably has cancer.  I broke off our conversation and said, "How are you doing?"  

She said, "Great!"  She smiled most the time she talks.  I beleive her.

They called her name and she told me it was nice talking to me and she left.

About 20 minutes I got a call  on the cell phone to move the car around to pick up my passengers.  As I was leaving the little lady was walking out  same time.  We walked out together.  I asked her did they give her radiation.  She said they gave her a transfusion.  She said she comes in ever-so-often for a transfusion.  Maybe that is why she is so upbeat, she is happy to be alive.

Doctor's Office

The other day I went for a routine doctor’s visit.   I arrived at 10:30.  The lady behind the counter told me I was 30 minutes early.

“OK” I said.  I am always early for doctor’s appointments.  It seems that if I was late for an appointment it would mess up everything for the rest of the day,  like dominos.

I was the only patient in the waiting room. There should be no problem, I thought – in and out quickly.

From the exit door emerged my old school friend Walker.  After about 52 years of not seeing Walker we got to see each other last Sunday at the Marietta Campground Meeting  After 52 years; then seeing each other twice about 4 days apart.   

A talkative casually well dressed elderly man arrived.  He wanted to talk to the lady behind the desk about who has the right to see his medical information – and who gave anybody permission?  He had a warm smile on his face the whole time.  Then he wanted to see the nurse,  he said she would know what he is talking about.  By thlis time I picked up on his last name, it was one of the most prominent names in Marietta.
 
 

I think the lady behind the counter said she would let him talk to a nurse, just to get him  from keeping her from working. I suppose.  She told him to have a seat and the nurse (by name) would see him shortly.  He sat across from me and we chatted.

At 11:00, the time for my appointment, a Latino lady came and signed  in.  The lady behind the desk told her she was 30 minutes late.  She did understand English, but I take it that she thought she was at least there now so that was something.  She sat beside me and I spoke to her and she politely spoke Spanish to me.  Either of us knew how to talk to the other one.

The nurse opened the door and called the elderly prominent old fart’s name.  He followed her inside talking away in his smiling gentle way.  I think the old fart just wormed himself in on my appointment.

About ten minutes later the nurse opened the door and called the Latino lady in.  Another one knocked my appointment up some minutes.  I was thinking about what just happened, the two extreme ends of the local social food chain delayed my appointment almost 90 minutes. I was fuming to myself. Damn! I slipped through the cracks again! This is symbolic for what many people consider America’s biggest problem, the middle man carries everybody’s load.

Finally the prominent old fart casually came out with the nurse and he was still talking – he was using his cane to make gestures with. She jokingly told him he had better watch where he pointed that thing, she’ll jerk it away from him and use it on him. He apologized and said he didn’t mean anything by waving his cane around, he used it to talk with like some people use their hands. That embarrassed him, putting him on the defensive, and about that time he saw me still sitting where I was sitting when he wandered to the back with the nurse. He said, “You still sitting here? I demand you take this man now, he was here when I came in!” I think he was just changing the subject to put himself on the offensive.



And the nurse took me back and on the way back she jokingly asked if I had been busy.

I replied, "Busy waiting!"  By her expression she knew what I was talking about.

After my doctor’s visit and I was leaving through the outer lobby I saw the prominent old senile old fart was talking the ears off a cute outer office receptionist.  Little young cute receptionists like that are old-fart patient magnets.

YOU CALL?

Overheard in the waiting room yesterday:



Nurse: Mrs. Cantilonie?



(Lady rises up from chair).



Nurse: Did I pronounce your name right?

Lady:  Actually it is Cantiloniounitous.

Nurse:  Jesus!

Overheard in a Waiting Room

Woman about 50: See my new phone Mama?
Mama: What is that a picture of?
Woman about 50: Starry Night.
Mama: Starry what?
Woman about 50: Starry Night. It’s a famous painting Mama.
Mama: Oh.
Woman about 50: Look.
Mama: That is a good picture of Jimmy.
Woman about 50: Here.
Mama: Is that Thelma?
Woman about 50: Yes, that’s Thelma. Here’s your picture Mama.
Mama: Shhh… I never did like that picture.
Woman about 50: When you call me this your picture comes up on the screen.
Mama: (irritated) I never did like that picture.

People Watching at the Kennestone Maze

Yesterday we took a relative to the Kennestone Hospital complex for a couple of routine visits, nothing serious.

I let them out and went to one of the parking decks entrances. There were two lanes going inside. You could choose either lane, drive up to a machine, press a button pull out a time stamped ticket and the gate would rise for you to drive on in.

The second car in front of me drove up to machine, pressed the button and nothing happened. More cars came in behind me. The lady kept pressing the button and the machine would not respond. Somebody in line behind me blew their horn impatiently. In my humble opinion, when someone impatient like that sounds off, it just adds to the pressure and does more harm than good.... or, in other words, ass-hole!

The horn blowing motivated an employee to walk hurriedly over to see what the problem was. He pressed the button and still, no reaction to the machine. He tried that several more times until he was convinced it was out of order. He motioned the car in front of me and me to move over to the right lane. While he was motioning the cars behind me to move over he put two orange rubber cones behind the car at the machine, meaning that lane was closed.

I wondered what about her? She is blocked in. She can't go forward because of the gate down and can't back up because of the cones.

As I was pulling up to the machine on the right side I saw the woman at the bad machine back up, and heard the crunching of the rubber cone and stopped. I went on in the parking lot, having no idea what the woman did about her predicament.

I went to the new section of Kennestone and everything had changed again. It looked like a completely different Kennestone Hospital. They just can’t help themselves. They are always changing, building up, building sideways, tearing down and redoing…every time I go there I have to relearn myself the layout.

I sat down in a little lobby-waiting area near the elevator to wait on Anna and our relative. I brought a book . I was there over an hour and only got a few pages read. The reason I couldn’t keep my eyes on the book is that I couldn’t keep my eyes off the people. Basically I suppose I am just too nosy.

Across from me two elderly men sat. I didn’t pay much attention to them until I saw one of them leave and come back with a cup of water and hand-held it for the other guy to drink from it. Then I noticed the one drinking had a bib on. I wonder if he was subject to drool and was he fully in charge of himself. Then I wonder what their relationship was: brothers? friends? church friends? neighbors? It was not for me to know, but I do know they man was caring, good for him!

One man walked up unsure of his steps, in my opinion, he just didn’t appear to know where he was going. There are two elevators. As he approached one elevator door was opened. He stood outside the opened door and was studying the button when the door shut. He pressed it and turned around to me and said, “I guess I wasn’t fast enough.”

I said, “The door was opened, all you had to do was step in.”

The other elevator door opened. Not noticing the other door was opened, he said, “You mean you don’t have to press the button if the elevator door is opened?” It was about time for the waiting elevator door to close.

I pointed at it and said that door is opened, get in! The door was closing. He reached out, which I’m surprised he knew to, and put his arm in and the door opened back up. He thanked me and got in.


About 5 or 10 minutes later he came out of the elevator with another man. The other man pointed to a door, and said, “You need to go through that door and into that building there.”

A lady came and sat down. After talking to her a few minutes she told me she worked a parking booth and was on her lunch break. I told her how confusing the new parking lot and the new buildings are to know how to get around. She very patiently explained the map of the parking lot and all and sure enough it worked when I left.


A bunch of nurses stepped out of the elevator, probably going to lunch, and a tall maintenance man was waiting for them to get out so he could get on. A very short nurse patted him and asked could he come up and fixed that “thing”. She said it with a wink, with her head turned away from her comrades. He looked about between 20 and 30 years older than she was. How does anything get done?


An old high school friend walked up. He was about to get on the elevator and we recognized each other and we gossiped a while.

When I left, I got and car and went through the same lane as the booth lady that helped me understand the traffic system controlled. We always use 30-visit parking passes and save a few bucks. By what I already told her, she knew where and when I used it last. She looked at the pass and said, “Who was it that marked this?”

I said I didn’t know his name.

She said, “Well, he used green ink, he shouldn’t have used green ink.” She told me not to worry, she would fix it. I thanked her.

Actual Dialog in Doctor's Waiting Room Yesterday

Cell Phone.
Man: Hello?
Man: listens
Man: We are not taking orders today.
Cell Phone.
Man: Hello.
Man: listens
Man: Sorry, we are not taking orders today.
Cell Phone
Man: Hello.
Man: listens.
Man: Can you not understand, we are not taking orders today!

People in the AARP Tax Preparing Waiting Room

I took this picture from the front entrance of the Central library in Marietta. You can see the new Cobb County Courthouse on the right side. While I was taking a few pictures from the top steps, a guy came from inside who looked homeless. Every time I go to the Central library I see homeless people. It is a public place where people go out of the weather when they have nowhere else to go. This guy was smoking and was asking me about my camera, which made me nervous. I went back inside.

We took my mother-in-law to the Marietta Central Library to have her taxes done by a trained AARP volunteer. I went to the GA Room to research genealogy for a while and then returned to people watch. I overheard an elderly gentlemen telling somebody that his Marine unit was in China during a big part of World War II. He went on to say his poor wife, “bless her heart”, had a stroke several years ago which paralyzed her left side. She has a hard time speaking where you could understand her except when she is on the phone. She can speak perfectly while on the phone so he said he was going to get her a phone to hold when she is speaking to him.

There were two young ladies in their early 20s that appeared to be identical twins. One of them had swirling designs and green letters on her face. The old man carried on a conversation with them until he asked what was on her face. She explained it was makeup left from Saint Patrick’s day celebrations. He laughed and said when she came in he thought, “that poor girl was all messed up, bless her heart.”

Speaking of twins -

Another 69 year old man told me he retired from the Naval Air Base. His job on the base was spraying for bugs. He said he was “the bug man”. I told him I heard about him. He looked puzzled. I explained that my wife worked on the base and when management wanted to let the office off early for the day, they would say “the Bug Man” was coming, so they had to vacate, “wink, wink”. He said he didn’t know he had so much prestige. He is a father of two sets of twin girls. The oldest two are identical twins but the youngest two were not identical. His wife left shortly after the youngest pair were born so he had to raise them by himself. His name was called so he left with his well organized forms, receipts, statements, etc. in a neat folder ready to work on his taxes with the AARP volunteer.

Then I turned to my left. The young man sitting there was very tall. He said he graduated from Marietta High School last year and is now going to a two year college in town. He told me he did not qualify for the Hope Scholarship but did receive money from a grant, going on to say his mother is a Native of Nassau, Bahamas. He has been to the Caribbean with his family several times to visit his grandmother. I noticed a skateboard was on the floor by him. He said it was his only mode of transportation. He lives over a mile from downtown Marietta, probably 2 miles to Marietta High, and probably 3 or 4 miles to college. He also had a backpack and an I-pod. . Imagine him skateboarding down the road with his I-pod and backpack. His name was called and he left only to return in a short time. As he was picking up his skateboard I said, “That was quick.” He politely said, “Yes, the guy told me I had to bring my earnings statement.” Then he shook hands and said it was nice to meet me. Wonder if he only dates girls with skateboards.

After about 3 hours, we were ready to go. The AARP volunteer tax service is free, except for your time waiting. Since we are retired, our time is free anyway.

Waiting Room Nosiness & Cliques

We sat in a doctor’s office waiting room for over an hour and a half Friday. Of course, if we had not been an hour early, then we would not have had to sit that long, but what if we had a flat on the way or had a wreck? Or had to wait on a train? I get nervous just thinking about it.

One young man, probably in his late 30s brought his father in. His father was short with a nice thick stock of gray hair. The old man talked just like Billy Bob Thornton in SLINGBLADE. He even used the same type of terminology the Sling Blade man would use. The old guy was obsessed wanting a Diet Coke. His son kept telling him to wait and they would get a Diet Coke on the way out because if they left now to get a drink they might call his name and they would miss their time. I wanted to catch the old man eyes and nod my head, to show him I concurred with his son. The old fart kept fussing about wanting a Diet Coke. Finally the son gave in and got his father a Diet Coke. I say it was his father but he called the old man by his first name. It is none of my business anyway.

One elderly lady came to see the doctor’s lab to find out if they had ran whatever kind of sample she left them yet. She was out of her medicine and was depending on them basing her next prescription on the test results. It was a lack of communications. She thought it would be sooner than it was going to be. The technician told her it would be seven more days before they got the results back. The technician also said they can call in a prescription to her drugstore of what she is using now, to hold her off. The tech then asked her which drug store does she go to most often. The elderly lady said she goes to two drug stores most often, and she named them both and where they were at. The technician asked her again, which one of the two would she prefer to get her prescription at. Again, the elderly lady said, “I go to both of them.” The tech said, “ I’m going to call the drugstore on Cobb Parkway. Go there in about an hour to pick up your prescription.” I hope that worked out and she didn’t go to the other one.

Walking by a man saw a woman and stood looking at her a moment and then asked her if her name is BLA BLA. She said yes and he must be BLA BLA. They were in the same high school graduating class. He had a sweatshirt that said CHEROKEE on it. Cherokee County, Georgia? Cherokee Nation? Nothing they wore or said gave any hint what high school they knew each other from. The man told her he didn’t see her this year at the 30 year reunion. She said nobody called her. (ahah! One of those invisible people!). He said he went and wished he hadn’t. He said “they” were still in cliques just like they were back then.

I know how cliques are. I went to Marietta High School which had the worse clique infestation that is possible bet My friend Monty and I were talking not long about high school cliques. We said we both really didn’t belong to any clique, like the jocks or the honor students. We were sort of like tops spinning solo beween clique groups. We got along well with them all, I suppose, but were also outsiders to them all.

I didn’t mention it, but we came closest to finding our nick in the hell raisers clique.

Finding our nick,
In the Hell Raisers,
Clique.

I’m a poet, it is in my blood. Read the book report post on yesterday's blog.

I think cliques have good and bad points. People naturally want friends around them, especially in high school. With your co-clique members you can share common likes and dislikes. One of your dislikes will be outsiders who are not in your group. And that is where bullying comes in.

Very few teenagers prefer to spend their high school years as loners, but some are forced too – they are just not accepted by any of their peers. They usually have their own drummer they march to. If they are denied fellowship among their own, the people who denied it should be ashamed. Unacceptance could lead to suicide.

Cliques are not limited to the snobs at high school. Churches, extended families, big companies, and any large group of people are natural habitats for cliques. You can’t get away from them.

POP! The man and woman were talking about the 30th reunion. He said he is not going back to another one and she said she has no intention of attending a reunion too. They more or less said, “Who needs them?”

They talked about Facebook friends and how old high school acquaintances who didn’t speak to them in high school are now asking to be their facebook friend. They both thought that was ironic but it didn’t prevent them from agreeing to become each other’s facebook friend.
Another thing, as invisible as they claimed to be, they certainly drew the attention of almost everybody in the waiting room. The sling blade man was totally self-absorbed with his own needs to notice them but just about everybody else. As a matter of fact, one elderly man leaned forward and craned his neck to hear them better.

Jock Clique
Drama Queen Clique
Old Fart Clique

Not the Angels of Death

Yesterday I was at the Well-Star Kennestone Hospital complex. The section we were in there is a door in the lobby that leads into a corridor. Down the corridor near the end are two restrooms, Women and men. I went down the hall to take a leak, as I usually do when I am in that part of the complex. Down the hall, near the two restrooms were three women in black gowns and black head covers. I thought for a brief second they were a committee of Angels of Deaths waiting for me.

As I got closer I saw that one lady was elderly, one middle age, and one a teenager. All were dressed in black garb with plain black head covers…. I don’t know if you would call it a cape with a hood or what.

I stepped into the men’s restroom and did my business and left. The women in black were gone.

I walked back into the lobby and went to a waiting area with chairs. Sitting were two of the three women in black. They were jabbering away in a foreign language. The teenage girl was not there.

I suppose the teenager was in a doctor’s office in the immediate area.

As I said, the two women were jabbering away. When I sat down they suddenly stopped talking.

The older lady bent her head and looked down the rest of the time. The middle age one acted more naturally. She flipped through a couple of magazines and used the house phone and made a call.

The older lady continue to look down solemnly like the was in a deep prayer. Maybe in their religions women are not suppose to look in the face of a man that is not their husband.

But if she was alone how would she know I was gone unless she looked up to see me?

All religions dictate some strange behavior and customs.


Not that it matters, but as dull dressers as they were, I noticed the older lady had on shiny golden color ballerina-looking shoes. And in contrast, the middle age lady looked as if she were wearing blunt- steel-toe work boots.

There is nothing wrong with either shoe fashion, I just thought the contrast was interesting.

One of Us

Last week the car rental people told us the garage next to them would, for a price, look at any car we were considering and tell us if it had any problems.

I picked up a car we were considering and carried it to the garage I mentioned. The owner, a young man, jumped right on it.

I went to the waiting room.

It was about lunch time and three men were eating their lunch. They were mechanics that worked there. At least two others were working. It appeared to be a good size operation.

One of the mechanics asked me what I was reading and he seemed to appreciate a good book.

Then a lady and a toddler came into the waiting room with a fast food sack. She shared what was in the sack with her little boy and one of the mechanics. Apparently, the mechanic and she were married.

The longer I sat there peeking over my book I saw that she also worked there, in the office as bookkeeper and cashier.

The little boy toddler crawled and climbed over everything with the mechanics helping him or guiding his attention to play with things or showing him pictures in the waiting room magazines. One time he looked like one wrong grip and he would topple off a chair onto his head. I held out my arms to serve as a safety net in case he did.

We talked about our wrecked car. They were all car enthusiasts. Which reminds me, on the wall was a poster of a black and white picture taken in the early 50s probably. A car hood was up and around the opened hood along the side fenders and front bumper at least six, maybe seven, people were bent over looking at the engine. You couldn’t see their heads, only their torsos. It was very much like them.

A man came in to pick up his car. The mother/wife/cashier got up and got his ticket and collected his payment. The man announced it was his birthday and he would celebrate it by going hunting for the weekend. He added that the wife wouldn’t like it, but he was going anyway, it was his birthday.

I said, “Ask her when you get back”. He got a kick out of that and all the mechanics jokingly agreed. One of the mechanics said it was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

The owner came in and told me the status of the car. He is a very positive person. I think his smile is there to stay. He asked one of the mechanics eating his lunch did he make out a ticket for me.

The man put down his sandwich, got a clipboard and said, “I’m sorry, I thought you were one of us.”

Senior Discount? It Must Be Wednesday.

Yesterday we were sitting in the waiting room waiting on my sister’s being fitted for some upcoming procedures she will have to go through.

My biggest concern was the coffee maker. It had cups, the machine to drip out the coffee, but no carafe. How can they expect people enjoy their coffee if they don’t have anything to put the brewed coffee in?

Out from the back stepped my old friend Gresham Howren and his wife Lydia. We were in grammar classes and Boy Scouts together.

Gresham is getting treatments for lung cancer.

Gresham remembered my sister Frances. His mother was Frances’ 6th grade teacher. They had a nice little meeting too.

In most our classes Gresham sat in a desk in front of me. His last name is Howren and my last name is Hunter. Over the years I learned what button turns on Gresham’s giggle box and I pressed it whenever I thought of a good wisecrack in class. Gresham was a serious student and when he giggled he just about burst a gut smothering it.

We were glad to see and talked to each other. He doesn’t try to swallow his giggles any more.

Gresham asked me did I ever communicate with Geri Bundesman. I said I did. He said tell her hello. I hope she reads this, otherwise, I might forget.

Gresham and Lydia Howren went on their way and Frances was called back. I scouted out coffee on another floor.

Back in the waiting room drinking my coffee and reading the book I brought suddenly an elderly man materialized. He had a long walking stick in his hand. He asked for one of us to press the right button on the elevator for him to get him back on the main level. He was blind. How did he get on that floor? How did he get into the building? Did the person that brought him know he was blind? Another man jumped up and punched the elevator main floor for him.

The man who helped the blind man came back and told us his situation. He had a large number of siblings but only 5 were still living and of the 5 he was the only one able physically to help the other siblings.

For instance: He was there because he brought his ailing sister for cancer treatment. Not long ago she moved in with him so he could help her more. His sister was being treated for a brain tumor.

Frances has a brain tumor too. We carried her to Emory for radiation which should have stunted its growth (knock on wood).

Afterwards we had lunch at a New Orleans style Cajun restaurant . I had a bowl of gumbo. The manager is a nice spicy looking number…. Spicy – get it? Yuk yuk. I can’t stand myself sometimes. I wonder if the manager has a big collection of Mardi Gras beads.

After we let Frances off we bought groceries. It was Wednesday, Senior Discount Day.

While at Kroger’s several times I past an elderly serious looking couple which reminded me of the American Gothic painting. Once as I walked by them I noticed the man humming “The Little Drummer Boy” which got me humming it in my mind. Imagine if he effected everybody in the store and everybody in all aisles starting humming “Little Drummer Boy” together?

Imagine everybody in Krogers humming or singing the Little Drummer Boy and in the center of them all, the hub, so to speak, was a little elderly depressed couple.

The same Gothic couple was in front of me at the checkout counter. I chose to get behind them because they had very little in their cart. However, I soon found out they took up more time. They did have the money to cover what they bought. I think they first tried a credit card and the credit card only allowed them so much. Or they may have tried to pay with their cash money. Then they shifted through their purchases to see what they could do without and decided they needed it all. The lady finally said, “I’ll just write a check for the balance – how much is the balance?”

The cashier said, “$1.13”.

And she wrote the check. Problem solved. But the old man was no longer humming “Little Drummer Boy”.

Another Waiting Room Story

In the waiting room across from me sat a slim man with Liberty overalls and a baseball hat. I figured he was older than me, and later I found out he was; by one year.

When I first focused in on the guy he was talking to a lady that might have been a nurse. I picked up on the conversation as he was saying:

A bunch of us were up in the mountains and we have never seen a waterfall. We asked at the filling stations and stores, for waterfalls, because, we told them, we never seen one.

Somebody told us how to get to a waterfall, not too many people knew about. You couldn’t get to it by car. You had to park and walk to it through the woods. I don’t think there was even a trail to it. We walked and we walked and finally we heard the roar of the waterfall and we came up on it. It was a beautiful two tier waterfall. We were all just admiring the waterfall when we heard a loud crack of lightening. It sounded like it hit close. We all ran through the woods back to the car. It just isn’t safe to be out in the woods during a lightening storm.

He apparently finished his story. He sat back to hear what she had to say.

She didn’t say anything. She might have been speechless. Why did he tell her that at that moment? I thought, and I think she did too.
She went back talking medical talk to him, for him to make his decision.

Overheard in Hospital Waiting Room

In the waiting room:

A young lady was explaining to an elderly couple that the operation would be robotic; performed by a robot.

The elderly lady looked stunned. Very seriously and scared looking the older lady asked, "How big is this robot?"

Waiting Room Entertainment

Yesterday morning I was in the waiting room of an optician, everything went along subdue and dull for a while until this lady came in.

This lady told the receptionist she came to get her child’s prescription. She said somebody called her from this doctor’s office and told her that her child’s prescription would be in the child’s folder. The receptionist wanted to know the child’s name and she told her then she wanted to know the child’s birthday and she told her that. The child was in his mid 20s and had no record of being in the doctor’s office for several months.

To make a long story short somebody called her months ago about the prescription. It was a prescription for contact lens. The lady thought it just a week or two ago. They couldn’t find the prescription and wrote a new one.

When the receptionist and someone else were looking for the prescription the lady was nervously pacing back and forth in front of their counter. Then she decided to make a phone call…. You know, utilize her time, so to speak. When the party answered, which was woman, the lady made a mistake. She pressed a button that turned it into a speaker phone. The lady told the lady she made a mistake she had her on speaker phone and didn’t know how to turn it off…. But the lady on the other end was too busy talking other than listening. She (the lady on the other end) was hyped up because the authorities arrested someone for murder, she saw it all on TV and was who she thought it was. I’m not sure if she was referring to the news or a fictionalized thing on TV… either way, she was using the words FUCK, SHIT, and MOTHER-FUCKER as often as possible…. Over the speaker cell-phone in the waiting room.

Only four other people, besides the lady and I were in the waiting room. They were polite enough to pretend they didn’t hear the bad words. They had no expression at all. I wish I could say the same but I had to swallow a couple of smirks. I finally buried my face in a book to hide my contorted face and biting my lips.

Not long after she left I heard a very loud noise outside. It sounded like a huge rumble of a group of flying jet planes. I wondered if they were low flying missiles or a passenger plane commandeered by terrorists. Three of us ran out of the office and not so high up in the wild blue yonder were two or three airplanes doing jet-plane-tricks in the air. They flew so low the lady standing beside me said she could see it was the Blue Angels on the underside. I can only verify they were blue.. The Blue Agnes are schedule this weekend at Dobbins Air Force Base’s Air Show. I guess they came early to practice.

Where was my %#*#@ camera!!??!! I left it at home, that’s where!

We saw them a few other times not so high above Marietta during the day doing aerial tricks.

Growing Old Gracefully

Anna and I were sitting in a waiting room at the hospital very early yesterday morning. My sister was there for a procedure. A man and his wife walked in. The man looked in my direction, he saw me his expression lit up, he smiled and gave me a warm wave. I didn’t recognize him. As he and his wife talked to the receptionist I recognized him. His name is Joel. He lost hair since the last time I saw him.

He had been coming to our Good Old Boys & Girls (GOBAG) meeting but he hasn’t been there for a while. I felt bad that he recognized me but I didn’t recognize him.

After he and his wife sat down I walked over to say hi. He introduced me to his wife by saying “He (me) and I (him) went on those bowling tournaments in Las Vegas and Reno that time….” I interrupted him saying, “Wait! I have never been to Reno or Las Vegas.”

He confused me with someone else. He refocused and realized who I am.

While in the waiting room we decided to have breakfast. We had country steak and biscuit. On my biscuit I spread grape jelly. In my jumbled clumsy movements I dropped the little grape pack onto the floor in front of me. I picked it up and saw the floor had a little patch of grape jelly. I thought a cleaning lady will be by shortly and get it. Then I thought what about all the people who might walk on top of it and get jelly on the bottom of their shoes. They will have a sticky shoe each time they take a step. Being the humanist that I am, I cleaned up the jelly off the floor.

Anna wanted to move a few seats over to be able to watch the news on the big TV on the wall. When we moved I thought I got rid of our breakfast napkins, cups, and paper plates. I know I threw it all in a garbage can. As soon as we moved two Latino women moved into the seats we were occupying. There was a small table with a phone and a Styrofoam coffee cup. That was the same kind of coffee cup I was drinking my coffee from that I bought from the hospital cafeteria. Damn! I forgot to pick it up and throw it away. I didn’t want for my trash to be a nuisance to the two ladies – the best thing for me to do was to take a few steps over, smile and say, “excuse me” and pickup the coffee cup and throw it away in the nearby trashcan. I was about to stand up to make my move when one of the ladies picked up the cup and sipped out of it. It was her cup. In just another moment and I would have made a fool out of myself, again.

Back home, later in the day I called Paul and told him about seeing Joel in the hospital and that is where Paul was. He has been in the ER since the day before. His heart rate had drop to the low 30s. The doctors were trying to decide what to do and his daughter was trying to get him to change over to Saint Joseph’s in Atlanta. I checked with him about four hours later and his heart rate was back to normal and he was checking out of the hospital

Getting old is not for wimps.