Schtewpid.

Flea hasn’t been feeling well for the past few days. Since he didn’t seem half-dead or anything, yesterday I took him to the nearby walk-in clinic instead of calling his regular doctor to beg for an unexpected appointment. The clinic has extended evening and weekend hours, making it incredibly convenient. So, we do tend to use it quite often.

It’s the perfect solution. It’s less than three miles away, it offers great hours and you don’t need an appointment. Not that it matters, because even when you have an “appointment” at your regular doctor’s office, you wait long past your designated time to be seen. But, that’s an entirely other grump.

Anyhow, the only disadvantage to visiting this particular clinic is they employ idiots. I mean, I totally understand the fact most employers these days can’t legally discriminate against gender, race or age. But, surely it’s not illegal to discriminate against stupidity. Am I right?

Unfortunately, this particular employer must be trying to improve their Karma. Fortunately, I’m pretty sure they must only feel ethically bound to take on one sympathy case, because thankfully it seems they only have one Stupid on the payroll.

Sadly, this Stupid is...well...pretty darn stupid.

Backstory: A few weeks ago, Hubbit and I volunteered at the boys’ school. Each time you volunteer at the school, the office staff gives you a sticker and everyone is required to wear it at all times. It is meant to inform other staff members you have signed into the office before roaming the halls and have passed the secretary’s five second you-don’t-look-like-a-psycho assessment.

The sticker reads: Julius Elementary School Volunteer (Well, that’s not exactly what it reads but to follow the blogging safety rules set forth before me by my grand-big-Phi-Mu-sister, I am somewhat disguising the name.)

The whole sticker thing is pretty ridiculous, honestly. I mean, they don’t screen you via the FBI or anything before you get the sticker. They pretty much will hand anyone a sticker if they sign their name (doesn’t even have to be your own name) into the log book sitting on the front office counter. Furthermore, how on Earth is a sticker going to protect anyone from ANYthing?

Oh, she has a sticker! She must be harmless! Riiight.

However, the school takes these stickers VERY SERIOUSLY. I’ve seen teachers and parents even get into confrontations when a parent forgot to grab a sticker on their way into the hall and while it may shock you, I was only a bystander and not the offender.

Anyhow, back to my story...

Hubbit had been seen at the clinic a few days before for a foot injury and forgot to ask for a work release form while he was there. Apparently, the fire department doesn’t want people with a bum foot to run into burning buildings and they wanted verification Hubbit had doctor’s approval to return to work. After volunteering, Hubbit decided he would quickly stop by the clinic to get the paperwork he needed. When he walked in, there sat Stupid.

Hubbit’s convo with Stupid went something like this...

Stupid: Can I help you?
Hubbit: Yes, I was seen by Dr. M a few days ago and need a work release form so I can return to work. Unlike a large percentage of Americans today, I actually enjoy supporting my family without government assistance. After all, there’s no such thing as a free lunch, right? (Ok, I’m not sure he said that part but he IS a steadfast Republican and a bona-fide smarta$$. So, if I know him like I think I do, I am 99% sure something of that nature was spoken out of his I-don’t-care-who-I-offend lips.)
Stupid: Ok. Let me look that up for you, Julius.
Hubbit: Um. Julius?
Stupid: Yes, Julius. What’s your last name?
Hubbit: ~ Looks around like he’s in the Twilight Zone for a few seconds, starts to honestly question his own identity (Is my name really Julius?) and then finally glances down to realize he’s still wearing his sticker, which reads, Julius Elementary Volunteer. ~

Schtewpid.

Much to my surprise, Stupid was smart enough to keep her job a few more weeks and Flea and I had the pleasure of seeing her smiling face yesterday as we walked in. When we arrived, she was chatting with a patient at the registration counter, so I stood back to wait our turn. As I waited, I overheard her tell the patient she’d been working there over a year. So, when I walked up to the counter and told her we were walk-in patients, I expected her to understand she worked at a WALK-IN clinic. Sadly, she was unaware.

My convo with Stupid went something like this…

Stupid: Can I help you?
Me: Yes, my son needs to be seen as a walk-in patient.
Stupid: Do you have an appointment?
Me: Um. No. He needs to be seen as a walk-in.
Stupid: Hm. I have to see if we can take him as a walk-in. One moment.
Me: Um. Isn’t this a walk-in clinic?
Stupid: Let me ask. Hold on. (Turns to her supervisor and seriously asks if they see walk-in patients.)

What?! It was a WALK-IN clinic.

Thankfully, Stupid’s supervisor had a brain, quickly registered us without any problems and convinced me after a few minutes of my incessant hounding, we were in fact, NOT on Candid Camera. Would've made the whole thing SO much more worth it.

Whitney

“Genius may have its limitations, but stupidity is not thus handicapped.” (Elbert Hubbard)