Every visit to Kaiser is like an episode of Twin Peaks. I know I say this alot. But I'm there more often getting my B-12 shots (are you grossed out that you know weird medical things about me? I am.) and am subjected to Krazy Kaiser with great regularity.
Today, Barbara the Head Nurse shot me up. Babs is 5'1". I know this because she told me. She told me because she was MESMERIZED by my height, which is 5'11". While I am used to people saying things like, "Oh! You're tall!" to me, I expect a more blasse reaction from someone in medicine. Babs made it seem like the Tallest Man in the World statue broke free from Ripley's and came down to Kaiser for some B-12.
"What size shoe are you?" Babs asked. "If you don't mind my asking."
Barbara then gave me advice on where I could find HUGE shoes, namely the internet and Norstrom Rack "on delivery day."
Why, Head Nurse Barbara, would I know the shipment schedule of the Nordstrom Rack?
But since my shot prescriptions are all just plugged into the computer and I can show up, get shot up and leave, my time discussing what a freak I am with a nurse was short. I then had to pay a dollar for my parking, which is when things got specifically odd.
First of all, you need to validate at Kaiser, like it's the Sundance Kabuki Theatre.
Second of all, the machine couldn't read my credit card, so I had to shove a dollar in there, and I apparently caused a little passive-aggressive scene while I did this because the middle-aged man ('middle-aged' in a GIFT) next to me made a big point of noticing.
He and I had to wait for an elevator together, which took forever. This guy openly started at me in the elevator nook until I looked back.
"Did it accept your money?" he asked.
"Barely!" I said, and then looked away. He continued to aggressively stare.
"Having a rough morning?" He asked, now in funeral director voice.
"Nope. Not really!" I smiled, looked at him to show I wasn't avoiding eye contact, and then looked away.
He continued to look at me so I asked, "What about you?"
"No." He said this mock-calmly, like he was talking to a hysterical person. "I am having a fine morning."
"Awesome for you." I said looking away.
We were in the elevator at this point and obviously, traveling two agonizingly slow floors with this guy was really awkward. It was clear that he had formed some bizarre and specific opinion about me and was deciding how to handle it.
I don't think he was interested, if you catch my drift. I think he was looking to involve himself in someone else's shit. And somehow he had misinterpreted my shit (big feet and a wrinkly dollar) into hardcore shit (meth addiction.)
When we finally got to his floor, the doors SLOWLY opened, this guy turned to look at me as he exited and says in the most sympathetic, concerned citizen voice possible, "Take care of yourself."
"Thank you." I said. "YOU TOO..."