Dr. Belliveau's Dream Job Chapter 1 [Fiction-Humour]
Dr. Belliveau, a respected physician, hates his life choices. Enough pap smears! All he ever wanted was to be an Administrative Assistant. And then one day, it happened.
Chapter 1
Stacey’s sneakers made a god-awful squelching sound as she walked from the elevator to the office. She hated the uncomfortable noise they made and was thinking of buying a new pair until she realized how much they irritated Richard in accounting.
Fuck Richard and his spreadsheets, she thought. What she really needed was a new job, but for now, being Dr. Belliveau’s administrative assistant paid the bills.
Something about the job irritated the hell out of her, but she couldn’t quite figure out what that something was. Dr. Belliveau was kind, if not a little weird. She could handle weird. Weird was kind of her thing, a family trait passed down among the many taxidermists, taxi drivers, tax collectors, and taxed-to-the-max puppeteers.
Damn it! she cursed under her breath as she rounded her desk. Dr. Belliveau had been sorting through her papers again. Every afternoon, before leaving work, Stacey made a point of stacking her files in order on her desk. The most important things were on top, and everything else fell subsequently down to the most mundane chores on the to-do list.
Today, as always, her pile had been dismantled and fanned across her desk. Sometimes the folders were organized by color when she arrived at work. Red folders in one pile. Yellow folders in another. Green folders stacked one on top of the other.
One time, she found her file folders adorned with an assortment of colored paper clips in no particular order.
Stacey remembered her sister’s advice. You should talk to him about this. Tell him not to touch your desk after you leave for the day. But what, Stacey argued, would she say? How do you start a conversation like that?
Hey Dr. Belliveau, you gotta problem with the way I organize my work? How about you stop molesting my file folders? I see you like color-blocking, how ‘bout I get you a box of big Legos?
Nah, Stacey thought. She could handle weird people, but not weird conversations.
GOOOOOOD MORNING! Dr. Belliveau bellowed. He did that every morning, even though it was just her and him and five empty chairs in the waiting room.
Under his eye, Stacey mumbled under her breath. She was pretty sure the doctor had never watched The Handmaid’s Tale.
“Who’s on our list this morning?” the doctor asked, arm outstretched for his appointment book. Even though all of his appointments were filed electronically, he insisted on penciling the name of each patient into a hard-covered, double-lined appointment book.
Always a pencil. Always after Stacey had left for the day.
Weirdass, Stacey thought as she handed over the appointment book. She looked away as he took the book and fanned the pages.
“Don’t you just love the smell of paper?” he asked, his chest lightly expanding as he sniffed the air.
Total cringe.
“Ah, Mrs. Eleanor,” the doctor remarked. In a world where mostly first names were used, Dr. Belliveau insisted on giving his patients a title. Mrs. Mr. Ms. Stacey had tried to explain the non-binary situation to him, but he’d just shrugged and said he didn’t know what title to give them.
Just call people by the name they want to be called, she’d tried. She didn’t have the energy to try again.
Instead of going to his office to prepare for Mrs. Eleanor’s visit, he stood next to Stacey’s desk, eyes pinned to the closed door, and waited.
So fucking awkward.
Stacey logged in to the computer and brought up her email. She pretended to read, unable to concentrate with Dr. Belliveau’s muffin top stuck to the side of her desk.
BING BONG
The door opened.
BING BONG BING BONG
Mrs. Eleanor had a habit of moving the door back and forth a few times before fully entering the office.
BING BONG BING BONG BING BONG BING BONG
Just shut the fucking door! Stacey thought.
“Mrs. Eleanor!” Dr. Belliveau bellowed. Why is he so goddamned loud? Stacey thought. The doctor went up to the patient, practically nose-to-nose. He was a loud talker AND a close talker.
“Please go down to my office and I will meet you there shortly,” he said. At this point, Stacey let out the breath she’d been holding and sat back in her seat, giving the doctor a BUT WHY? look.
“I just need to make a call,” he told Stacey, reaching for her phone. Even though he had a phone in his office, he always insisted on using hers.
“Okay, how do I get out?” he asked her, acting as if he’d never used an office phone before. Stacey had to tell him every day. “Press 9 and then the number you want to dial.”
She sighed.
He punched the numbers, grinning with every press. Stacey could hear the phone ringing on the other end. She never knew exactly who he was calling because he did the same thing every day. He punched a number in, waited a few seconds, and then hung up before anyone could answer.
“Guess nobody’s home!” he declared.
He stood up, adjusted his tie, grabbed six blue pens from Stacey’s desk, and headed to his office, where Mrs. Eleanor was waiting.
“Oh, wait! Dr. Belliveau? Before I forget, I need to take Friday off as a vacation day.”
The doctor stopped in his tracks and spun around. “You DO?” he asked with way too much excitement in his voice than was necessary.
“Yes, if it’s okay,” Stacey said.
“YES, yes. I mean, yes, of course it’ okay,” he said.
“Do you want me to call in a casual for the day?”
“Oh no, not at all,” the doctor grinned. “No, I’ll handle it.” And then, after seeing Mrs. Eleanor, Dr. Belliveau fantasized about being his own Administrative Assistant for a day.
I enjoyed this! Fun and quirky 😁❤️