Every place of work is a miniature world unto itself. Anyone
who works can tell you that. Friendships are made and kept,
secrets told that never leave the premises, favors granted
and received, mitzvos done and recognized only by the
One above.
It is also true that in addition to whatever function the
workplace holds in the real world, as an educational
institution, a medical practice, or a factory, it serves an
additional role in the social life of its employees.
I work in a large and busy dental clinic. Much goes on that
has nothing whatsoever to do with dentistry. For example, I
spend a lot of time observing people and their middos.
I pay particular attention to the eligible young men and
women who come to care for their teeth when they approach the
age of shidduchim. The young lad who comes in with a
chutzpadik attitude towards the office staff is duly noted as
not someone I would recommend.
I look at the shoe styles and the skirt length and the
haircut and the makeup and, of course, the smile. The girl
who has learned to say, "Excuse me," "Can you help me?"
"Could you please find out how long it will take?" "May I
have a receipt?" "Where can I daven mincha?" is
remembered for the good. Miss Chutzpa is more likely to
frown, declare how very busy she is, remind me a few times
that her appointment was for nine o'clock exactly, and check
her watch frequently.
I will not talk loshon hora about her, and her poor
behavior will stay within the walls of the clinic. However,
young people: Take note! You are being appraised at all
times. Actually, we should all take note. The people we come
in contact with in the course of the day are all potential
relatives, future friends and neighbors. At no time may we
feel free to be obnoxious.
Speaking of which, I have a confession to make. The worker,
that's me, is also not allowed to be obnoxious. I'd had a
really tough morning but had managed to keep smiling and
being pleasant to all the patients. As the next shift
approached and my replacement was very late in arriving, I
accepted the card of the first patient of the afternoon. She
had mentioned that she has just become engaged. As I was
looking up her file in the computer, I noted that her family
was remiss in making payments and to top it off, she casually
stated that she had not brought any money along.
As our policy is payment after each visit and no recording of
debts, I launched into a rather vituperative lecture. It went
something like this:
"As you are newly engaged, you should realize the importance
of paying bills on time. As a new wife, you will want to make
a budget and buy only those goods and services for which you
can pay. A young couple should never allow themselves to go
into debt. Remember that when you don't pay for something,
the person you owe must pay interest on his debt in the bank
and this is as much a matter of ribbis [the
prohibition to take/pay interest on a loan] as if we asked
you to pay interest on your debts."
In short, all of my anger at all the patients from the
morning (I'd lost my patience, pun intended), spewed out at
our poor embarrassed kalla. But never fear, dear
reader. I got punished very quickly.
Within the hour, I was at home, reading an e-mail from my
daughter in America. She wrote, "Mazel Tov! My sister-in-
law's son is a chosson. The kalla is..." You
guessed it.
This is a wedding that I will be invited to attend, and I
hope the kalla will forgive a cranky old lady to whom
she will now be somehow related.
Going back to the dentist's chair, there is one more story
that must be told. A very poor patient came in for a
checkup and X-rays and came out looking very dejected. There
was no way she could afford to pay for all those root canal
jobs and crowns, even at our very reduced prices. She paid
for the day's service and said she'd be in touch if something
worked out.
A few days later I was as happy to see her back, smiling. The
dentist told me he had arranged something and not to ask her
for payment. This was a very unusual procedure, but I went
along with it.
The next day, another patient of the same dentist showed up
without an appointment. I asked him why he had come and he
replied that he was there to see me and not the dentist. He
was apparently known to be of means and the doctor had
approached him with the idea of doing a mitzva. He was
prepared to pay for the anonymous lady's treatment. Checks
were written and a phone number left to be called if there
was anything more charged on her bill.
Neither patient ever knew who the other was; the dentist
never said a word to me and only in Heaven is it recorded
that nice things go on behind the dentist's chair.
