|The Blog|| |
|"I Have A Prescription For This"|
posted May 17, 2007 @2:54a
I have a prescription for this.
My attitude, as many have described it, is very laid-back. I'm in no hurry. I'm usually pretty calm. I enjoy taking it easy. I wear flip-flops.
As you may have read before, I used to work. I had a job of seven years that I absolutely loved. I even took pride in my place of employment, which is very rare these days. I spent my time each workday creating things to make the business run more smoothly, and doing my best to help streamline the workday of my fellow employees. And even though it was unintentional, I always ended up spending hours of my time cultivating ideas and creating those things outside of work.
But I never actually looked busy. I never looked like I was doing anything at all. And I liked it that way. When I'd stroll past my co-workers around the building at my slow, stoner-like pace, people would ask, "is that all you do all day? Walk around and get paid?"
I'd answer, "oh no no no! Sometimes I eat candy... I get paid for that, too." It was funny to me to help propagate my reputation.
Well one day, while in the middle of creating, I had propped up my feet on my desk. I didn't wear flip-flops to work, of course; but I did sport some leather Birkenstock sandals.
...There's another important piece of information to this story, by the way: I have broken feet. Not only do they hurt most of the time, but they're actually broken; I have two chunks of bones missing in each heel. Along with my attitude, my foot problems are probably some motivation to my pace and choice of footwear...
So I wore Birkenstock sandals to work, which were specifically allowed in the dress code. But this particular day fell about two weeks after my immediate manager had been replaced. And not so coincidentally, it also fell about two weeks before I was unofficially no longer employed.
This new guy hated me. And he was bent on motivating me to quit.
I had always had a standing agreement with my former managers; they all knew about my bad feet, and they all agreed not to bother me if I needed to make adjustments to alleviate pain. Sometimes I'd walk around, sometimes I'd kick off my shoes, and sometimes I'd prop my feet up. And on this day in question, as mentioned earlier, I had my feet propped up.
Well a visitor gained access to the room. A miserable, hateful person, she spends her days doing everything in her power to move others to join in her misery. And as it turns out, she doesn't like it when a person uses his own desk as an ottoman. It makes her angry, and let me just tell you - you wouldn't like her when she's angry.
You probably wouldn't like her otherwise, but that's beside the point.
So she goes to the new Jason-hater manager and informs him of her dislike of my foot-propping. My manager then approaches me, and I explained, yet again, that I've had foot problems all my life. I do things to deal with my pain, and she caught me in a pain-relieving position.
But that explanation wasn't good enough. He told me I needed a doctor's note for proof. I didn't ask him if I needed a hall pass to go to the bathroom, although in retrospect, I should have.
When he stepped away from my desk, I called and scheduled an appointment with my foot doctor. She's awesome. I had seen her only a few weeks before, and they were happy to make room for me.
Later that week, as I walked into the doctor's office, the lady at the front desk immediately recognized me, yelling across the room, "hey Jason! What are you doing back here?"
"For some craziness," I explained, yelling back. She didn't ask anything more; she just laughed.
After being called back and waiting in that second, more tiny waiting room, the doctor entered. "So what's going on with you Jason? What brings you back here?"
I said, "well... I need you to tell me if my feet hurt."
She stared blankly. Then making that scrunched-nosed, furrowed-brow face to display her puzzlement, she questioned me again. "...what? What are you doing here? ...I don't think I understand."
I repeated what I had said before, "I need you to tell me if my feet hurt," then added, "I have a new boss and he thinks I'm lying about my foot pain. So I need proof that they hurt. He wants me fired, and I have no idea why... So you remember talking to me before, right?"
"So you know they hurt, right?"
"Yes... But what do you need from me?"
I thought for a moment. "A prescription, I guess."
She smiled a little, and spoke again. "This is dumb. This is really dumb..." With a deep breath, she picked up her prescription pad and a pen. "Okay, what helps alleviate the pain for you?"
"Well... flip-flops help the most. I don't wear them to work because they're not in dress code, but... they really do help me the most."
"Okay... is there anything else?"
I said, "yeah... propping my feet up - so that my feet are above my waist - that helps, too..."
Disgusted, she shook her head. "This is the dumbest thing I've ever done as a doctor. I've never heard of anything like this before."
I joined her in the head-shaking ritual. "If you think this is dumb, you're only seeing the tip of the iceberg."
She started writing her prescription. She spoke as she wrote, "patient is to wear Birkenstock-type sandals, elevate feet..."
I interrupted, "don't forget 'above the waist,' he's pretty picky about stuff."
"Okay... elevate feet above waist... what else?"
"Well... flip-flops really do help more than sandals. I've never really pushed it because I wanted to stay in dress code..."
She said, "no no - I know where you're going with this. They'll kill me if I write 'flip-flops' on this thing."
I comforted her, "no way - you had me wear flip-flops for a short time after my surgery, remember? I'm sure it'll be fine."
"Well... okay... Birkenstock-type sandals or flip-flops... There you go." She handed me the prescription. "This really is stupid. Good luck with all that, and try not to get fired."
The next day, prescription in hand, you could hear me flipping and flopping all down the hallway outside my manager's door.
So next time you see me - reclining by some body of water, feet propped up and covered by flip-flops - don't fret.
I have a prescription for this.
You can get a prescription to wear sunglasses like me :D
posted by James on 5/18/2007 @1:39:19 AM (#277)
That's a prescription for cool.
posted by Jason Wells on 5/30/2007 @12:23:44 PM
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