A Walk-In That Runs Out

(I work as a secretary in my husband’s practice. We don’t take walk-ins, and it’s clearly stated on the front door, but people still try to see him without an appointment. One day, someone comes in while my husband is out having lunch.)

Walk-In: “Hi, can I see Dr. [Name]?”

(I already suspect something, since my husband would never schedule appointments during his lunch break.)

Me: “What time is your appointment?”

Walk-In: “I don’t have one.”

Me: “I’m sorry; we’re by appointment only.”

Walk-In: “That’s okay; I’m his brother. He’s expecting me.”

Me: “Really? He didn’t tell me anything of the sort.”

Walk-In: “Well, you’re just a silly secretary. You don’t need to know that sort of thing. Can I go see him now?”

Me: “You said you’re his brother?”

Walk-In: “Yes!”

Me: “Well, that’s funny. You don’t look the least bit like him.”

Walk-In: “Everyone says that.”

Me: “Really?”

Walk-In: “Look, b****, I don’t have time for this. Just—”

(At this point, my husband has returned from lunch and has just heard the walk-in’s slur.)

My Husband: “Excuse me! Don’t speak to her that way.”

(The walk-in turns around and looks my husband square in the face.)

Walk-In: “Hey, mind your own business, moron. This doesn’t concern you, so butt out.”

Me: “Actually, it does concern him. That’s the doctor.”

(The walk-in goes white in the face. My husband crosses his arms.)

My Husband: “And moreover, that’s my wife you’ve just insulted.”

Me: *sweetly* “How did you say you were related, again?”