(I work at the front desk and am checking in a new patient. Note that I am a lesbian, wearing a clearly visible pentagram necklace, and am in a five-year relationship.)
Me: “Good morning! Go ahead and sign in, and I’ll let the doctor know you’re here.”
Patient: “Your eyes are gorgeous!”
Me: “Thanks. Have a seat while I look through your paperwork.”
Patient: *doesn’t move*
Me: “Ma’am?”
Patient: “Your eyes are really just so beautiful. I can see the power of God in you. You are truly an angel, do you know that?”
Me: “I… get that a lot?”
Patient: “Are you single?”
Me: “No.”
Patient: “Are you sure? Is it serious?”
Me: “Yeah, pretty serious.”
Patient: “Oh, but you’ll just love my son. You have to meet him as soon as he gets back from his Mormon mission!”
Me: “Uhm…”
Patient: “Are you sure you can’t consider breaking up with your boyfriend?”
Me: “I really don’t think she’d take that well.”
Patient: “What?”
Me: “I said I really don’t think I’m allowed to date patients or their family members.”
Patient: “Oh… but do think about it. Your eyes are really just so pure! He’d really be perfect for you!”
(She called several weeks later to say she’d been committed to a mental hospital.)
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