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“And reason for the removal?”
“Come again?” I frown. Nosy fucking bitch. Why does she need to know this shit?
“I mean, is there a problem with the tattoo, such as inferior workmanship, etcetera?”
“Ah,” I pause as I choose my words carefully. “No, I… they aren’t what I thought they would be. I just need them removed immediately.”
“Okay, I can book you in on the twenty-third of this month.”
“There’s nothing sooner?” I frown.
“No, I’m sorry. That’s our first available late appointment. We can do 6:00 p.m..”
Maybe I should call someone else? I exhale heavily. I want it done tonight. Fuck it. I don’t want to be reminded of what I don’t have every day when I look in the mirror. “Yes, that’s fine.” I sigh.
“Okay, great, we will see you then. Do you know our address?”
I look at the website. “You on Pitt Street?”
“That’s right. We will see you soon.”
“Thank you, goodbye.”
My intercom sounds.
“Yes, Maria?” I say.
“Dr. Mercer, have you got the dictation on the reporting that you want done this afternoon?”
“It won’t be long.”
“Sir, I need it if you—”
“I am well aware, Maria,” I snap, cutting her off. “Please, just do as I ask you to do, when I ask you to do it. I don’t want to hear your opinion.” I bark.
“Yes, Doctor.”
I roll my eyes. I’m sick to fucking death of her busting my balls.
“We also need to go through your schedule for the next two months.”
“Not today.”
“I need it today. Your waiting list is out of control, and I need to know when I can make appointments.”
I close my eyes in frustration. God, give me strength.
“Maria?”
“Yes, Doctor?”
“When I say not today, I mean not today. Do you understand what that means or do I need to bring you out a copy of the English dictionary?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Goodbye.” I push the intercom with force. Fucking hell, that woman is nagging me to death.
I press the button on my voice recorder and begin to go through my recorded notes. There’s a knock on the door, and it opens before I can say anything.
