“I Don’t Wait For Anyone.”

“I don’t wait for anyone”, the gentleman thundered loudly, “I am Raja*”

* Name changed

We were waiting at the hospital to see the doctor, who had just come to his desk after completing his rounds. The first appointment was supposed to be at 10:30 AM, but the doctor was running late. It was 10:53 AM. The first patient had just gone inside. “You folks are next”, the doctor’s assistant informed us before going inside to do her duty of capturing patient notes. 
Hooray, the wait is over!

Even as the doctor saw the first patient, this man, Mr. Raja made his presence felt in the lobby. He was accompanied by another gentleman and a lady. “It is not my fault that the doctor came late after rounds”, he bellowed, before declaring “I don’t wait for anyone. I am Raja.”
What does the fact that your name is Raja have to do with your refusal to wait? And how does it matter who you are, while we are at it?

He took a peek inside the doctor’s room to verify that a patient was indeed inside. He took a seat in the lobby grudgingly. “Sir, you sit opposite me, ” he instructed his male companion. “And you, go and sit all the way in that corner”, he issued another instruction to the female companion.
Why is he assuming the role of maitre’d, and what is his reasoning behind this arbitrary assignment of seats? 

“If I were the hospital administrators, I would refund this gentleman his fees, and ban him from the premises”, I told my wife. The doctor was done with the first patient, and his assistant summoned us in. “No, I will be the one going”, he declared, and he marched towards the door with his male companion. The assistant looked pleadingly at us, as if to ask, “Can I please count on you to help with this rather unpleasant situation?”. “Sure, he can go first”, we obliged. 
Refusing would have guaranteed a conflict.

Now, I have to confess that I might have raised an objection, or told the gentleman that we were asked to go next, and we duly plan on going next. However, as a writer (we are writers now, aren’t we?), this had the perfect making of a story. Instead of being annoyed, I was amused (at the spectacle) and delighted (at the prospect of a story falling right into my lap). As an aside, when I told my wife that I had decided not to object to this gentleman going ahead of us, she laughed and declared, “Did you really have any delusion that you could go before him?”.
What are wives for? 

To my surprise, the doctor greeted Mr. Raja warmly, and enquired cheerily about his health. They must know each other socially, or Mr. Raja would have had to be a long-time patient. Anyway, when Mr. Raja was inside the doctor’s office, the only thing we were talking about was him. We had trouble containing our laughter, so did the other people waiting at the lobby. 
I know, I know, I’m not supposed to laugh, and all that. 

In the meantime, his female companion decided to come and sit closer, where Mr. Raja was seated before he went inside. When Mr. Raja came outside, the entire lobby (and I’m sure the floor up and the floor down) felt his presence. He yelled something random to his male companion. He then shouted at his female companion: “Why did you come and sit here?” “There was nobody here, so I figured why not”, she replied meekly. “Go back to that corner”, he exiled her, and she complied.
So you are arbitrary and a knucklehead. At least you are not a chauvinist. Just a garden-variety equal-opportunity jerk.

“This doctor started with a salary of Rs. 650. He had to work hard over the years to climb up the ladder to achieve this magnitude of success”, he told his male companion.
Wow. That is pretty inspiring. And that is nice of you to say this. And rather surprising.

“Sir, doctors really are akin to God. They see patients, constantly risking catching the patients’s illness (if it is contagious). We should worship them as God”.
I could not agree more! This is so moving and beyond profound. Doctors should really be worshipped as God. A goosebumps moment. On another note, why are you ruining my story, Mr. Raja? You’re being nice and virtuous all of a sudden.

“Sir, there are two kinds of workers. The first kind of workers are called white-collar workers, like doctors. They get a fixed income and have a desk job. Then there are blue-collar workers like me. We have to break our backs. I asked you to feel my back last week, to check out how bent out of shape it has become.”
All of this is factually correct. But why the sudden and random segue from the glory of doctors onto white-collar vs blue-collar jobs? But I do feel for you, sir, at the mention of how your job has affected your body. 

The doctor still hadn’t called us in. I leaned over to my wife, to tell her something interesting that occurred to me. “Shh..”, she shushed me. Mr. Raja wasn’t done with his monologue, and my wife didn’t want to miss a word of it. 
Note to hospital authorities: Whenever Mr. Raja schedules an appointment, you should sell popcorn.

Later, I told my wife that Mr. Raja had mercilessly killed my story with his uplifting thoughts at the end. My wife said, “On the contrary. His various shades of grey makes for a better story, doesn’t it?”. Golly! That is true! 
What are wives for?

Image Credit: Engin Aykurt on Unsplash