A Difficult Boy Friend - The Life of a Hotel Doctor

A young man stood blocking the door. "I want to see your license," he said. I showed him. He examined it suspiciously and didn't move.

A young man stood blocking the door.

"I want to see your license," he said.

I showed him. He examined it suspiciously and didn't move.

"Get out of the way!" said a voice inside.

Reluctantly, he let me pass. I approached the patient, apparently, the man's girlfriend, who had phoned me because of an earache. As she described her problem, he glowered from the doorway.

"I don't think you're a doctor," he said, interrupting. "Where's your white coat?"

"Shut up, asshole!" she shouted before turning back to me. "He's being a jerk. He's probably a little high. Don't worry."

"You should leave," he said a few minutes later. Approaching, he delivered a gentle shove to my shoulder. The girlfriend cursed and pushed him violently.

"Sorry, but I'm not feeling safe here," I said. I walked out and went down to the lobby. The woman appeared a minute later, full of apologies, and we finished the consultation.

Operations & Strategy USA & Canada United States

In his regular column "The Life of a Hotel Doctor", Mike Oppenheim shares remarkable stories around visiting hotel guests as a doctor. When he began as a hotel doctor during the 1980s, only luxury hotels had a “house doctor,” usually a local practitioner who did it as a sideline.

In his regular column "The Life of a Hotel Doctor", Mike Oppenheim shares remarkable stories around visiting hotel guests as a doctor. When he began as a hotel doctor during the 1980s, only luxury hotels had a “house doctor,” usually a local practitioner who did it as a sideline. Nowadays, in a large city even the lowliest motel receives blandishments from a dozen individuals plus several agencies that send moonlighting doctors if they can find...

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