Blogue Post the 34th: In Which I Have a Surreal Experience At a Dermatology Clinic

This weekend I went to a doctor to see about having a mole removed. A Korean friend helped check me in and explained to the receptionists what I wanted done. No one there spoke more than two words of English and I'll get to those...

The clinic looked like a posh coffee shop, with booths and couches instead of the more traditional waiting-room arrangement. American dance pop was playing on the speakers and the receptionists, all very attractive Korean women dressed in suits, wore earpiece monitors. They were the secret service of skin care. There was also a large case of a Korean energy drink called Baccus-D on a counter next to a mini-fridge stocked completely with Baccus-D.

While I waited for something to happen (my Korean language connection having departed) a terrified woman emerged from the back area. She looked like she'd seen a ghost. Then one of the secret service girls came over and from my limited ability to evesdrop, I deduced the woman had just gotten Botox.

Eventually I was taken into the back and put into an operating area. It was nowhere near as opulent as the lobby. In fact I think they decided to proceed on me in a storage room. Like, while things were going on, a nurse came into my room, stepped around other people to get to a fridge, and used a comically huge pair of horse-dentistry looking tongs to procure a canister of liquid nitrogen.

While I waited to be proceeded upon, three nurses busied around the room engaged in some kind of competence shock and awe campaign. They were readying needles and pads and God knows what else with no apparent idea of their function, just dropping shit on the floor and giggling. My confidence in this place was being badly shaken. Also, multiple types of medical thingies were stored in empty Baccus-D cases.

Then the doctor comes in and wheels over this black machine that looks like a cross between a shop-vac and the thing that the bad guys use to tortue Han Solo. He looks me in the eye and says "No pain." I didn't know if it was a question or a statement or a challenge to my manhood or what. I did what, in retrospect, I believe was the right thing to do. "No pain" I said back to him.

Then the procedure proceeded. A mole was removed. There was no pain. I'm pretty sure lasers were involved. Afterward I said to the doctor "No pain" and he smiled and I smiled back. It took four receptionists to explain what to do with the skin cream I was given and see me out the door.