Chiropractors’ offices are like bug lights for unusual people. Which makes it odd that I was sitting in one this afternoon. The woman behind the desk is very nice. She also has worn a medallion incorporating the Star of David and a swastika, a symbol of the Raelians. Google ’em.
The chiropractor who had done most of my treatments is no longer there. No explaination, just gone. The guy who first treated me is still there. Still treating me. He does a fine job, but it’s just slightly Orwellian that a person would just be gone. Poof.
So I am sitting there today waiting for my turn with someone when the cell phone of the woman across from me rings. As she is talking to someone I assume to be her daughter, the man sitting next to her who I assume to be her husband and the father of her daughter becomes move and more agitated. The girl is, apparently, in the financial aid office at school and has asked for a piece of information for a student loan form.
Her father, taking the phone, is irate. “Don’t do it,” he exclaims. “They can’t make you sign a form, that’s not true,” he says, taking no time to hear her whole story. “You don’t have any income. You can’t pay it back,” he shouts, apparently unaware of how student loans work. “I disagree and I pray God judges you,” he says as the assistant calls my name to go get cracked.
So as she runs the massager across my back, I try to make sense out of that one. Not making any claims on parent of the year over here as Tallulah watches videos while I blog, but “I pray God judges you”? For a student loan? Or for anything for that matter. I know what my daughter is made of, having been half the source, and I know she will, and probably already has, done plenty to bring judgement on her, student loans or no student loans. I pray God shows her mercy. And give her peace.