Can you please hold while I flush?

I drink about 6 cans of Diet Coke a day. It's not the healthiest of my habits, but I equate Diet Coke to my coffee. I need it first thing in the morning when I get up and it's the last thing I drink before I call it a night. That being said, I take frequent, but not too frequent, bathroom breaks during the day.

If you were to call my desk during one of my kajillion bathroom breaks, you'd get my voicemail. It is a very polite message explaining that I am either on the phone assisting another patient or away from my desk. I left out the part where I tell them that maybe I just don't feel like talking to them right now or my mouth is stuffed full of Hershey Kisses (my other weakness). If you were to leave a message on my voicemail, you will generally receive a call back within 30 minutes. I'm pretty diligent with this - I hate leaving things that need to be done hanging around taunting me from the yellow post-its on my desk.

The other day, when I stepped away to go to the bathroom (and grab another Diet Coke from the fridge) my phone rang 5 times. When I got back to my desk, I had 5 voicemails. So, I cracked open my fresh soda and hit play.

Message one was a hang-up.
Message two was a heavy sigh followed by a hang-up.
Message three was another heavy sigh, a frustrated "Hello?" and a hang-up.
Message four was yet another heavy sigh followed by an angry "Aw C'MON!!" and a hang-up.
Message five, my mystery man finally left a message. An angry, frustrated I-hate-talking-to-a-machine message.

I call my not-so-admirer back almost immediately (after a few gulps of my poison). I introduce myself and before I can get the "how can I help you?" out, he starts YELLING at me.

"Doesn't anyone answer the Goddamned phone down there? Where the hell is everyone?!"

I explain to him that I work alone and that I stepped away from my desk to use the restroom.

Now, let me stop and say I have NO IDEA why I told this man I was having a pee. I just felt the need to be honest, I guess?

He says to me - as serious as can be - "Well then you should have a phone with you!"

Immediately the mental image of me sitting on the can schedule appointments appeared in my head and it took everything in me to stifle my laughter.

At this point, it sounds like my phone friend has tucked the receiver under his chin as he continues to yell at me. I can't understand a word he's saying.

I repeatedly ask him to stop yelling. Please slow down. I can't understand you.

More yelling.

Finally I say: "Sir, if you don't stop yelling, I'll have to hang-up."

Even more yelling, so I put the receiver gently back in its cradle.

About 10 minutes later, I decide I should call Mr. Potty-Phone back. After 6 rings, I get his voicemail. I slump down in my chair and leave a message. A very polite, I've-never-spoken-to-you-before message.

My phone rings not five minutes later. I fought the temptation to hit the "transfer to mailbox" button when I saw his number come up on the caller id and answered the phone in the most polite voice I could muster.

Either his thorazine kicked in or Dr. Jekyl's potion wore off because he was calm and nice and I could clearly understand what he was saying.

Another experience to add to my life as a medical receptionist.