I close my eyes and anxiously wait to hear my name. My appointment time was 20 minutes ago, but I’m still sitting in this brown, uncomfortable chair. The empty chair next to me has a gigantic dark stain on the back and on the seat. I am curious, yet mortified, thinking who or what caused it. The woman sitting across from me is scanning Facebook on her phone. A couple sitting a few chairs down from me are softly chatting about what they are going to plant in their garden this spring. The receptionist is on the phone trying to reschedule an appointment for a difficult patient.
Despite the large window looking down from the second floor, into the parking lot, it still feels dark and stale in the room. The window is completely useless. Barely allowing any light in, and no foreseeable way to open the damn thing, I just want to scream. I want to grab that disgusting chair next to me and throw it through the window. I want to watch the chair fly through the air and quickly drop into the parking lot onto the gigantic Cadillac Escalade that is illegally parked in the first handicap parking spot in the front of the building. The chair would make a large sound as it crashes through the windshield. The jerk who parked there will come out of the building, start yelling and pointing up towards the broken window on the second floor.
As I stand there, smiling, I take a deep breath, and then faintly hear my name being called.