There are no bad owners, only bad dogs



An open letter to Dr. Elliot Cohen

Dear Dr. Cohen,

Let me begin by telling you that I might be judging you harshly because I used to be married to a dude a lot like you, so I start off not liking you just because. Then let me tell you how angry I get when people embody stereotypes. It just annoys the fuck out of me when blondes are clueless, when Black people name their children with an unrelated string of syllables that might sound kind of African, and when doctors behave in a very self-important way. I mean medical doctors. When Ph.D.s do it, itís just silly. When optometrists do it, I laugh so hard I pee my pants.

Anyhoo, Dr. Cohen, Iíd like to continue by telling you that when you have bad news to deliver to someone, itís better not to do it from your cell phone in a crowded airport waiting area at the top of your lungs. It lacks a certain je ne sais quoi. No, I do know. It lacks class, compassion, confidentiality, and consideration for your fellow travelers. I didnít need to know that Sue didnít get the job as director of the emergency department, that it wasnít your fault she didnít get it Ė you recommended her, but the committee didnít like her at all, maybe because they felt she was too aggressive for a woman (what the fuck? Who is this committee? Are they made up of medieval burghers who know precisely where women belong?) (and why the fuck didnít you tell that committee to wake up in the 21st century?) and that youíre sorry she didnít get the job, but ITíS NOT YOUR FAULT like this had anything to do with how you felt Ė you just gave someone some very bad news, you might want to think about HER feelings instead of yours for a second. After we circled the thunderstorms over Dallas for over an hour and eventually were diverted to Waco to refuel, I didnít appreciate hearing your verbal reaming of the desk clerk at the McTavish Motor Courts (it was something vaguely Scottish) because youíve stayed there a dozen times and each time youíd paid $61, and you werenít about to pay $74, thank you very much, youíll find another place to stay in Waco at midnight without a reservation. And youíd really like to know why it was going to cost you SO MUCH MORE (dude, youíre an m.d. You have a pretty decent life, by all appearances. You can afford the $13) than it did the last times you stayed there.

And the pushy? Itís very, very unattractive. Not that youíre attractive to begin with, but jeezy kreezy, by that point in the evening, we had all shared an experience that didnít distinguish you in any way from the misery of the rest of us. Screaming at a $8.25/hour desk clerk didnít make you special.

So, Dr. Elliot Cohen, Iíd like to recommend to you that you learn a tiny little bit of humility and lose both the alarmingly tacky cheapness and the arrogance.


13D (seat, not bra)

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