mobile phone stolen
contacts imag-es vanish:
For several years I worked in a west London practice near Portobello Road . My patients came from families that had originated in many parts of the world. Almost all of them had lively characters. They were not your average quiet provincial types, who respect professionals – a bit too much in my opinion. They were unpredictable in their punctuality and behaviour. This made every one of my working days exciting, sometimes a bit too much so.
‘J’ was a frequent attender with many dental concerns. Although he made appointments, I could be sure that the appointment times were those that he was least likely to appear at the surgery. His timing was erratic to say the least.
When J arrived, he ignored the reception desk and would come straight into my surgery even if I was already treating a patient. If I was in the midst of treating someone, he would respect my asking him to wait until I was free. He would then hover around outside my surgery, and if the wait was too long for him he would disappear, only to reappear unannounced and unexpectedly a few days or weeks later.
One afternoon when I was free, J, who was not a nervous patient, ran into my surgery. He was too agitated to sit down in my dental chair. Instead, he leant against one of the walls of my small room.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“It’s bad, man.”
“Can you tell me about it? Do you want to talk?” I asked.
“My mobile ‘phone has been nicked.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“I know who took it.”
“Really,” I said, “then, can’t you get it back?”
“I don’t know, man. But, I know who nicked it, and I am going to get the boys from South London to put him six feet under.”
Having said those worrying words, he settled into my dental chair.