The Paper

Darn you, Joan of Arc, for leaving me in charge.

I’m at my ENT’s, a nice, middle-aged man who wears a yarmulke but claims, he’s not religious.

It’s a pleasant office with framed pictures of angels in flight, along with one very large Charlie Chaplin strapped to the front door.

Mina, the young receptionist, a favorite of mine, is always polite and helpful, letting me come the same day I call.  It’s one area in my life, where I reap what I sow.

I’m accompanied in the waiting room by an older, African American woman, a little middle-aged Greek lady, a tall, Waspy blonde, my age, and a Latino man in his 40s.

We’re quiet, listening to the hum of the plastic waterfall cascading below the…Get Your Hearing Checked Annually, sign.

Suddenly the older woman gets up to take off her coat, and starts dropping things.  Her purse, that’s open…a compact, pen, a roll of Lifesavers, so I immediately, like a Golden Retriever, swoop down to pick it all up.

She then drops a small piece of paper.  “Leave that,” she quickly says.

“Oh, it’s okay,” said Joan.


Startled, Joan slinks back to her seat.

The Latino man gets up and grabs it, saying, “That’s littering, what’s wrong with you?”

Well, they start going at each other like cats on a roof, screaming, bringing out the doctor who prides himself on the peace of his office.

“What’s going on Mina?”

Poor Mina, who is all but 20, about to cry, points to the nutty woman.


“Your newspaper?” asks the doctor.

“HER TRASH,” said the Latino man.

It felt like I was watching a really bad reality show, as redundant as that may sound.

“It’s a misunderstanding,” I say, on everyone’s behalf. “It’s actually my fault for trying to be too helpful.”

“Thats’a bulla-shit,” said the Greek lady who had been quiet up till now. “You are so nice,  and she’s CA-RAZY.”



Now the doctor, in his crisp white coat (and yarmulke) says, “Please, this is a professional office and you must behave accordingly.”

I loved how he spoke like we were all school children.  Then Wendy Wasp decides to put in her 2 cents, or 2 billion since by the looks of her jewels could have treated us all to an afternoon of PSYCHOtherapy, says, “I’m running late as it is, so could you please take me in and check my ears?”

“But you’re not next,” says Mina, “this woman is,” pointing to you know who, who gets up and starts dropping things all over again, and no, this time, Joan the Retriever, stayed safely in her basket.    



About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Thanks.
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27 Responses to The Paper

  1. Something must have happened before she got there because nothing happened there that could cause that amount of anger. Love the picture of the dogs. Yep, I’d secretly love to sit on the woman’s head and maybe even pee on it. Bravo Joan! Bravo too to the Latino who stood up for right.


  2. What an unwanted show you had! Even your kindness couldn’t win!!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. It’s just an essay, another random New York story.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. skinnyuz2b says:

    Susannah, it sounds like you had quite a few champions.It’s nice to know that strangers will jump to your defense since you are usually the one doing the jumping.
    Do you think the good doctor found anything between the crazy lady’s ears? And if she ever gets lost she can just turn around and follow her trail of olio home, like Hansel and Gretel.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Sounds like an episode of Jerry Springer. No good deed goes unpunished, I guess. 🙂 At least the Greek woman stuck up for you.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. micklively says:

    Maybe there was something confidential on the paper? Just guessing, as her behaviour does seem bizarre. Love the photo! 😉

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Jesus! People are so on edge these days. You know who bothers me the most in this story? The Wasp. I’ll excuse crazy over knowing better, yet still being a bitch any day of the week.
    I just want to go to the doctor’s office to read People magazine in peace.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Retrievers have to retrieve… that’s what we do… I Mother people to death… it’s just who I am. We need to embrace who we are and also, I would have creeped back to my seat if someone yelled at me too.

    Liked by 1 person

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