Saturday, June 19, 2010

I'm Sorry, My Chrystal Ball Is In For Repairs This Week

It is right after lunch and I am about to step into the elevator on the ground floor. A young woman approaches me.

She: Excuse me, I need to find the Health Department.
Me: Well, the first three floors of the building are all the Health Department. What exactly did you need?
She: Like, the Health Department.

That certainly narrows it down.

Me: Do you know which section of the Health Department you need? Immunizations? Animal Control?
She: My friends told me to come here. I need the place where you get, you know, checked out and stuff.

She is about 19. I begin fumbling for the most tactful way to ask if she is looking for our STD clinic or the teen pregnancy program, which is possibly unfair. Maybe she's there for a TB test?

Me: Do you need a medical exam or a screening?
She: I need to get, you know, checked. My friends said I had to, like, come here.

To my relief, a colleague who works in Communicable Diseases – which includes the STD clinic – gets off the elevator.

Me: Barb*, can you help this young lady?

Exeunt Me.


Packrat said...

Embarrassment, shyness, or just plain dense?

Shay said...

I'm going with dense.

Pat aka Posh said...

Sounded dense to me too