A few days ago I received an email from one of my most enduring fans.
I like the personal stuff you talk about on your blog more than all of the business, Italy-related stuff. I’m tired of reading about Calabria and Italy. Write more about yourself.
PS-Call your sister.
So I started thinking.
Well, there is something I could share but it is personal. I mean … up CLOSE and personal and I’ve been debating on whether or not I should tell you about it. So, incited by my bored mother’s email, I present to you …
Guerrilla Marketing 101: “Baring” It All for Your Business
It was time. In fact, it was past time-way past time-for my annual gynecological check up. So, like any modest American girl, I made my appointment, then dreaded the day and counted the hours until my visit. I always postponed and procrastinated this ever-so-invasive exam in America-where they spoke English-so you can imagine I was none too thrilled with this new addition in my cultural experience repotiore .
You see. I had been to a Calabrian doctor’s appointment before so I knew the doctor’s office, complete with desk, computer and phone and the Examining Room were one in the same. I’d also been warned not to expect a private changing closet, stiff little pink paper gown or a tissue-blanket to cover my legs.
I was prepared. Kind of …
I arrived at my appointment, completed the necessary first-visit paperwork and was ushered in to see the Good Doctor. A young, attractive blond sat behind her desk and greeted me with a smile, but even that didn’t calm my nerves.
I quickly scanned the room.
No closet. No closet. No closet.
I was slightly sweating as I sat down for a brief consultation with the doctor and her French assistant.
“She’s from Texas!” the assistant gushed. “She met her husband in Paris.”
The doctor smiled again.
“Don’t be nervous,” she told me as she motioned toward the bed that was angled both toward her desk and the door. “Accomodatevi!”
“Yea right,” I thought. “Get comfortable?!?”
The French assistance pointed at a chair near the bed. “You can take off your clothes and leave them there.”
I looked down as my clammy hands went to my waist. Before removing anything, I glanced at the women.
Yep. They were watching me.
I forced a smile and continued.
A few seconds later I am strapped in-my butt angled toward the door-and sweat dripping from my eyebrows. Nothing is over my lap or draped from my knees.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, the door opens and in walks a perky brunette.
She starts talking to my doctor. A few seconds later, the brunette doctor walks past me, “Buongiorno,” she said.
“She is from Texas!” the excitable assistant said again.
“Yes,” my doctor chimed in …, “Isn’t she cute?”
CUTE? Seriously? They are all three, by the way, at the wrong end of the bed!
“What are you doing here,” the brunette doctor asks as my doctor puts on a face mask with a big bright light attached at the nose and pulls up her chair.
“Uhm … here?” Isn’t it obvious?
“Oh! In Catanzaro?” I clarify.
“My husband and I own a bed and breakfast.”
“Really?” She gets excited and turns to face, well, you know …
I go on to explain our location, the name of our bed and breakfast and our average nightly rates.
Just then she turns to leave. “Great,” she told me with a smile. “I’ll send you people!”
I quickly redressed after my exam and did the walk of shame to the waiting room to meet my husband.
“How did it go?” He smiled at me. “You want me to buy you some ice cream?”
“Ice cream?” I demanded.
“I”m a Guerrilla Marketer. I deserve dinner!”
What is the worst-or funniest-experience you have had at a doctor’s office? How did you handle it?
Photo couresty of VisualRian