Noontime in Manhattan

Sure, I have a new job ahead of me. But before everything else comes in full circle, I have to get past the orientation which can really take a lot out of a person; well, that's my opinion. Manhattan, 12:11 pm(5th Ave & 81st Street Co. Museum of Modern Art) There I was, in the car with my mother. She told me it would be better if she were to bring me to work on the orientation day since it was her day off. As we approached the building of our destination, I saw an old looking lady standing on the doorway of what I recalled as the office of Dr. Verga, an Italian plastic surgeon who I was supposed to work for. I approached the pleasant-looking lady and asked her where "Agnes" was. Agnes was the person who referred me to this job; she is a family friend. I call her by the nickname "Tita Gingging." Apparently, the lady was the person who I am going to fill in whenever she's away; she was the secretary. She introduced herself to me by the name "Fran." I knew her name at that time because I make it a habit to know all the vital aspects in every important undertaking that I undergo. She told me to wait inside and take a seat while she clearly waited for a patient, she told me, who was supposed to have a belly-tuck or, in medical terms, abdomina plasti. (I have no idea how to spell it; just did so by the judgement of my hearing.) When I entered the well-kept building, I saw, again, a pleasant looking person in a doctor's garment. I assumed it was Dr. Verga; I was correct. He spoke to me about filling in for Fran and how it was nice to meet me. I responded in kind and told him that it was, indeed, an opportunity to work for him because I was planning to take up medicine for college. After I said that, I saw a slight smirk on Dr. Verga's face. Thereafter, Fran entered with the patient. After which, Dr. Verga catered to the patient. Fran showed me the works... everything. She spoke about how I should operate the telephone, find documents, fax documents, speak to the patients, log the schedule of appointments, find the patient's background forms, xerox the forms, get the insurance, talk to the insurance company if it calls Dr. Verga, and so forth. It was overwhelming to me at first, but I soon got the gist and feel of it. She also toured me around the comfy-feeling office that I just intently listened as she spoke away as the tourguide. When the patient was done speaking to Dr. Verga, she and the doctor went to the front desk where Fran and I was. They were still confabulating. She expressed her utter gratitude of the operations that she felt better about herself and such that she cited a few instances. After which, she bid farewell to us. Surprisingly, people going to that office were so pleasant, they even took notice of little old me. Shucks! Dr. Verga spoke to me as the patient went out the door. He discoursed about my salary, his work, his reputation and the like. Obviously, he is a big name in New York. He works in omnifarious places and manages to put up his own practice in that very office. I was astounded. We idle chatted for a while since Italians are inherently like that. In time, he and Fran told me not to worry about first day because he is always there to answer EVERY question that I have. What a nice guy. He's not like those anal doctors who often demands perfection. I love this job. I'm definitely going to be here the whole summer and LOVE every minute of it. When all was said and done, I jetted away to the car while they still went about their daily business.