Recently, I had a fresh acne breakout. Like a really bad one. And acne is a serious problem for me, having fought the war it waged against me since puberty (which perhaps I will one day write about), so I take acne breakouts VERY SERIOUSLY. And I will go all the way to Tampines to cure it. And I will queue as long as it takes to cure it. And I will pay as much as it is within my means to cure it. And so I did. And so. I. Did.
I went back to my old doctor to fix it a few weeks ago, and today was the follow-up consultation.
It was 1.45pm by the time I got there, 15 minutes before the clinic opened for the afternoon, and there was already a crowd of like 10 people waiting outside. But I was like, hey, that’s not too bad, 10 people would mean an hour maybe, which isn’t too bad considering that this dermatologist is pretty well-known.
So the doors opened at 2pm, the nurses ordered us in a line, and we went in to register one by one.
When I reached the door, however, I noticed that the clinic was already half full of people waiting.
How is it possible that there are people waiting when the shutters just opened like 5 seconds ago?
One explanation is, that these people were here for the morning session, but there were too many people so they waited for the afternoon session to see the doctor.
OR, the more likely explanation is: these people came before the morning session concluded just to beat the afternoon queue. May I add that the morning session ends at 12.30pm while the afternoon ones starts at 2pm. Which means they opted to wait 1.5 hours in the closed clinic with the nurses just to beat the afternoon queue. That is fucking ridiculous – but not beyond us clever queue beating Singaporean strategists!
When it was my turn at the counter, I asked the lady behind the counter, “How long is the wait, my good lady?”
“Just an hour and a half,” she replied kindly.
Just an hour and a half – or so she said. Or so. She. Said.
“No way am I going to sit around with my fellow acne-ridden people for an hour and a half,” I thought. “I’m going to be real clever and take the feeder bus to Tampines interchange and have a nice Subway meal. Then I’ll be back just in time for my turn!”
Or so I thought. Or So. I – Okay whatever.
I got back at the clinic at 3.15pm, smirking at the people who’d been sitting there for the past hour while I had my tummy filled with a delicious Subway tuna sandwich.
Then I noticed, the queue board said 56.
I was 81.
So I sat down and whipped out my phone, ready to rape Candy Crush level 86, convinced that 56 was a missed queue.
Two Candy Crush games later, the buzzer went off.
Let me just give you a moment to let that sink in.
That means, while I was right about 56 probably being a missed-queue number, there were still 10 people in front of me in the queue. THAT MEANS that none of the people who had been queuing with me outside the clinic when it opened had seen the doctor. And only now, did the real afternoon queue begin.
And so did the biggest test my patience ever had to endure.
I went back to my game, taking my frustration out on those damned unclearable jellies.
10 minutes later, the buzzer went off.
And I was out of Candy Crush lives.
There was nothing left to do but stare at the wall in front of me. You could say I was meditating, if meditating meant feeling a swelling urge to start screaming and bouncing off the clinic walls.
Naturally, I wasn’t the only one playing iPhone games. Someone else was too.
Someone was playing a Gangnam Style-themed game.
How do I know, you ask?
Because every time that someone accomplished whatever the game meant for her to accomplish, the game would let off a resounding *ding!* “Sanai! Najeneun neo-”
Every. Two. Seconds.
*ding!* “Sanai! Najeneun neo-“… *ding!* “Sanai! Najenrun neo-“… *ding!* “Sanai! Najenrun neo-“… *ding!* “Sanai! Najenrun neo-“… *ding!* “Sanai! Najenrun neo-“…
And when you think it’s over.
*ding!* “Sanai! Najenrun neo-”
It’s like watching this over and over and over again.
Not. Annoying. At all.
I flipped my hair and gave the most forceful TSSSKKK as I could and walked out of the clinic. Even the 3pm- no, 4pm heat of Singapore was better than tolerating that.
That’s when I started to go a bit crazy, I think.
I was out of my mind with boredom that I started to sing to myself, without even realising it.
AND I WAS SINGING ADELE.
There were benches outside the clinic where people would park themselves while waiting, which was where I was.
And I was just sitting there, minding my own business, when the guy next to me started giving me real weird glances.
In all honesty, I had no idea why he was looking at me weirdly.
That was when I realised that my mouth was moving, and there were sounds coming out from it. I was fucking singing Someone Like You.
Not like in a completely insane NEVERMIND I’LL FIND SOMEONE LIKE YOU~~ kind of scenario.
But in a slightly more insane, singing quietly to myself like I was on the verge of snapping at losing a loved one kind of I hoped you’d see my face and that you’d be reminded that for me~ it isn’t over~
And when I realised that, I went “What the fuck?” out loud.
As if the dude didn’t think I was crazy already, I went ahead to say “What the fuck?” out loud TO MYSELF. Like a real crazy person.
And then it dawned on me how fucking retarded and hilarious the whole situation was AND I BURST OUT LAUGHING. Like for real HAHAHAHAHAHAHA LOL-ing.
I don’t know how the guy tolerated this but he didn’t move, he just stayed where he was and stopped looking at me – I think he was a little scared.
But hey, I was obviously a lot more tolerable than *ding!* “Sanai! Najeneun neo-“..
Thankfully, I had regained a Candy Crush life by then and could go back to being distracted from the insane wait.