My Great Aunt Mabel just called in at my workplace to tell me she’d won complimentary scones for a month at her favourite tea shop – something about filling in a customer feedback survey and getting all the answers right. While I was happy to hear this good news, I was in the middle of administering a shot to a shrieking child at the time, and I’d have preferred if she’d saved it for later rather than barging into my office unbidden.
Being a GP is not really the kind of gig where you can have family members randomly stopping by to deliver non-urgent memos, even if they do involve taking you out for a Devonshire tea. Great Aunt Mabel is always doing this, though, no matter how many times I tell her it’s not appropriate. In her defence, she typically drops the memo then leaves promptly, coquettishly clicking her heels as she saunters back down the hall. She doesn’t hang around waiting for a response – she’s got much more important things to do, like getting to her bowls tournament.
Occasionally, she’ll stop by with a query that’s at least somewhat related to my work, such as where to buy a portable hyperbaric chamber. In those cases, I’m obliged to tell her she needs to make an appointment if she wants professional advice – not that I have much to suggest in the realm of hyperbaric medicine. It’s mostly so that the poor patient trying to have their session doesn’t have to realise I’m related to her.
I love Great Aunt Mabel, and she’s a true inspiration as far as maintaining a spritely gait goes, but she can be a lot. I wouldn’t say she’s embarrassing, per se, but she’s seriously extra. If it was anyone else, I’d be inclined to say that she’s the tiniest bit confused at the best of times, but by all accounts she’s been like this her whole life – it’s just her personality. I hope the staff at this cafe knows what they’ve gotten themselves into with this free scones business.