About The Kid At The Place I Got The Things Made

dandays (72)Silver-Smoothyin Silver Bloggers • 2 years ago (edited)

Inconceivable, that's what. Craziest thing I've seen all year happened the other day at the rehab center. Rehab like post-surgery, not court ordered.

About 10 chairs form a u-shape in the lobby. There's three of us in there, I'm casing the joint, they're on their phones. Both are older than me; a gentleman between 50 and 60 and a woman who's older than him. In walks a younger chick; mid 30's probably, brand new gym gear and curled blonde hair, she's obviously late for her appointment.

Debit card in hand and on the counter before the door closed behind her—checked in. She and the receptionist exchange small talk. Out walks her trainer and the two of them proceed toward the gym when suddenly she stopped. Looking back in our direction in what appeared to be a panic, "Spencer?!" She's scanning the lobby and front desk area, "SPENCER!!"

"Was he in here, did you see him?" She asked the front desk.

"No, you didn't have him with you today."

I don't know who Spencer is but apparently they came together and now she can't find him, "Spencer!" She opened the lobby entrance doors and stuck her head outside, "Spencer!! Spencer, GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW!"

In walks a young kid, Spencer, must be her son, 13 years old max. Tall, lanky kid with a full head a thick, curly brown hair barely able to maintain under the confinement of his old baseball hat. Color coordination is n-o-t his priority; green shirt, yellow socks, red plaid pajama shorts—Spencer.

He's got a scar down the middle of his patella like me, he had the same ACL surgery I've had. He sat down and looked around the room, looked outside and around the room some more, never looking down. Mom spelled it out crystal clear: "Sit.right.here. Do not go back outside, do you understand me? Stay put til they call you." He sat across from me. He didn't say anything but it was understood that he understood. Mom took off with her physical therapist.

Now it's the four of us in the lobby; myself, Spencer, the older gentleman and the woman older than all of us. They're tuned into their phones. I don't think they noticed either Spencer or his mom.

Older dude's scrolling for Mars on his phone. I watched his swiping finger in overdrive. Same with the lady, she's swiping and scrolling and swiping and scrolling, they called her name. She stood up and was escorted back by her therapist. Now there's three of us.

10 minutes must've passed. Old dude never broke concentration—scroll / swipe / scroll more / MORE / swipe / swipe faster! / Faster!!!!

In walks another patient, she's really short, can barely see over the counter. She's either in the middle of a panic attack, about to piss herself, or she's late for her appointment too—all antsy, hopping around like an Olympic sprinter preparing for take off.

There's two young girls working the reception desk. One's addressing arrivals, the other's on phones. Their sense of urgency is on display; phone won't stop ringing, jittery lady at the counter. They're in work mode but there's no denying they'd rather be anywhere else. I couldn't be more entertained.

"Thank you for calling East Hills Sports Medicine, can you hold please. Thank you for calling East Hills Sports Medicine, will you please hold. Thank you for call...."

Each time she switched phone lines she had a fresh condescending comment for the caller she disconnected with.

"Great! I enjoy being hung up on, thanks."

"Of course I'll hurry cuz you're disrespectful."

"Well excuse me for answering, bye."

With each hang up I'm trying a little harder to contain myself and I see it's equally challenging for Spencer. We're enjoying every minute of it. This chick's hilarious.

"Didn't wanna talk to you anyway, buh bye."

"Sorry about your luck, NOT!"

They called older dudes name. He looked up and made eye contact with his physical therapist, they acknowledged each other. He stood up, turned his phone off and put it in his pocket. Jittery lady was also led back.

Next they called Spencer and a few seconds later I met my therapist, Gabriel. He's cool, graduated from University of Tennessee. We introduced ourselves, shook hands, gave him a quick run down and we got started casting my feet.

30 minutes later I'm outta there. My orthotics will be finished in 2-3 weeks. I scheduled a couple bi-weekly appointments with funny girl at the counter, paid my $20 co-pay and out the double entrance doors I went. I know!! Craziest thing all year.

All that and he never reached for a cell phone or game console or anything. I don't even think he had one.