At 8:02 this morning, I called the doctor’s office to complain about McCreepy. I talked to someone who likely is so far down on the food chain that she doesn’t matter. Though she said that she’d take it up with the office manager, I’m not holding my breath.
And I didn’t even complain about the creepy “You have nice eyes” or whatever it was comment. I’ve decided: I do have nice eyes – but I just didn’t want to make that kind of comment. Especially when there is so much else to complain about – such as the fact that the man chronically keeps you waiting twenty minutes past your appointment time and the fact that he has inept prescription writing skills.
(And this overpriced eye ointment makes my eyes itch like crazy – I have never heard of itchy eyeballs, and by god, do my eyeballs itch. It’s driving me absolutely crazy).
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