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My Nemesis

 It's a great treat to have a nemesis, and mine is the secretary at my child's pediatrics office.


Her name is D'Nette. For the purposes of this post, I could change her name. But I haven't. Her name is D'Nette.

D'Nette hates her job, and perhaps she is underpaid. The evidence: You can write to her, and she simply won't respond. If the office drops an important ball for a full week, D'Nette might finally murmur, "The doctor is aware, and she'll get to your issue when she can." This really takes my breath away.

D'Nette *is* able to rouse herself for one reason. If someone holds the door for you, so you miss the sign that says, "STAY OUTSIDE UNTIL YOU MAKE PHONE CONTACT WITH A NURSE," D'Nette has a meltdown. You may be masked, you may observe the six-feet rule, but if you have failed to exercise superhuman powers of X-Ray Vision, and you have failed to notice an invisible sign, then you're in trouble.

I could leave this office, I know, but that's more work. And there's something about D'Nette that I find intoxicating.

I get to see her today.
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