Typhoid Gary asked me if I had already had lunch today. Instead of ending it with a simple "yes", I told the truth and said "no." He then promptly asked me to meet him downstairs at 1 pm. I hemmed and hawed, and said I had to find my resident and promptly went into hiding. Suddenly, this afternoon he's patting me on the small of my back, handing me a piece of gum, and telling me that my senior resident had better let me off tomorrow as we have a "standing lunch date."
At the same time, I found some new eye candy. I was hurriedly scribbling the crappiest progress note ever (although not dated 1993), when this broad-shouldered, scruffy-chinned guy walks by in a white coat. Before I knew it, I developed pathologic blushing syndrome, especially as some darned nurse took my space at the counter and I was forced to stand right above him, trying not to look down at him. He kept returning to the desk after leaving a few times, and I kept making eye contact, but shyly looking away.
I don't know what my problem is. The cute ones I can't seem to encourage enough, and the creepy ones I don't send away strongly enough. Argh!