Call me Scrooge, call me The Grinch, call me Will Ferrell's dad in the film Elf, but I am thrilled that Christmas is over for another year! Yay, no more stressing about those perfect gifts, no more hours wasted in traffic, no more feeling bloated and fat as fudge and back to only being abused by the public an acceptable amount!
Ok, so they day itself isn't so bad, I suppose. You get to eat a delicious meal and can start drinking from 9am without judgement (don't judge me). However, I am what is universally known as a "Christmas baby". Yes that's right, my birthday is on 25th December, which I always quite enjoyed. However, since turning 30, every year just means I'm still getting older and spend the day (week/year) wondering what the hell I'm doing with my life. No one has the answer by any chance, do they? No? Great.
Despite my age worries, without doubt, they worst part about Christmas is the week or so leading up to the damn day. I work with the general public, in a Doctors surgery. Now, I'm not sure if you've met the general public but they are general a**holes. Plain and simple. Not all of them, of course, but the worst of them seem to want to make themselves known around Christmas for some reason. Must be all that giving holiday spirit Jesus wanted.
Anyway, in my line of work, I answer the phone to patients on a daily basis and this time of year is always far busier with people wanting their prescriptions NOW! (because we close for 2 days). All logic, calm or understanding is swept away quicker than a sneaky fart on a breezy day. Even those with 3 weeks of medication want another prescription urgently because "it's Christmas". Give me strength Santa!
Amongst the many abusive telephone calls I received that week, the one that really very almost brought me to tears (there was a lump in my throat and some H20 in my eye), was from an older gentleman mumbling down the phone at the speed of light. As we all know, my hearing is pure shite mate, on a good day. After asking him as politely as possible to repeat his date of birth as I couldn't understand what he was saying the first 3 times, he made no effort to speak slower or more clearly. After having to ask him again, he condescendingly spits down the phone "Hmph are you deaf? LISTEN!" (He said 'listen' very slowly and clearly though. Cheers pal). Yes, a fully grown man with enough years in him to have learnt some manners, said that to me.
It took all my might to not hang up or cry.
I have had this once or twice before, and thought about whether it would be beneficial to explain to someone like that, that I do in fact have a hearing impairment. My guess is that, if they find it easy to be so rude in the first place, I would no doubt just be met with "then why do you have a job that requires using a phone" or something less civilised, like "not my problem, b*tch!". (oh no he dideeeeent!)
Its a tough one, because I can use the phone perfectly fine 90% of the time, as long as people don't call me on loudspeaker (stop doing that everyone, thanks).
But hey, I'm a professional, so I answered his query without giving in to his vile attitude, polite and helpful as I always aim to be. I just made a voodoo doll of him when I got home and put a lifetime curse on his entire household. You're welcome.
So lesson of the day my children, is, if somebody asks you to repeat yourself, its because you weren't clear the first time. Speak up, speak slower, speak clearer. Or you could get voodoo-ed too!! Eek.