I Swear, I am Not Making this Up
It happened again.
I went to the doctor yesterday. It was a simple heart check up. While I was waiting, Mom called. I left the office to take the call. I didn't want to stand in front of the door to have my conversation so I walked through a second door and stood in the hallway.
Mom wished me a happy birthday and remarked that if I am getting old then she is really old. We decided to coordinate our stories. We are both now rounding our ages up to the next decade and telling people that we are older than we really are. That way, people will think that we look really great for our ages.
When I got off the phone, I tried to open the door to get back to the entry of my doctor's office. The door was locked. I giggled nervously and tried the door again. Still locked. What are the chances that I could get locked in two doctor's offices in a week?
I knew the drill. I headed for the stairs. They were roped off due to repairs. I thought about jumping over the edge and risking them anyway. At the bottom of the stairwell was a large black iron gate. It was chained and locked.
I headed for a door at the other end of the hallway. Surely, it would be open. Defeat. Must remain calm. Have heart check up. Cannot get blood pressure up. Say the mantra. What is that f*cking mantra again? Must remain calm.
I did the only thing I could do. I called the doctor's office. The receptionist who checked me in answered. "Um, this is Mist, Mist 1. I'm um, locked in the hallway."
She came out and opened the door for me. I avoided eye contact. When we walked into the waiting room she said (a little too loudly), "We don't use that door because of the stairs." The other patients nodded their heads behind their People magazines from December 2001 as if they were aware of the stair situation.
I think getting this must be a sign. I feel a little like David Blaine, except for the part where he escapes on his own.