What's In A Name?

What's In A Name?

“Can I help you?” said the receptionist.

“I have an appointment with the doctor.”

“Name?”

“Vivian Smole.”

“Could you speak up?” the receptionist said as she leaned over the front of her desk.

Vivian raised an eyebrow and shouted at the top of her voice.

“Let me see if he can see you now, Ms....?”

Vivian wrote her name in large print on the back of a business card and passed it to the receptionist.

“Smole? That’s unusual! Origin?”

“Yes. It’s mine.”

The phone rang briefly.

“The doctor will see you now,” the receptionist announced after she’d hung up.

Vivian went into the office and closed the door. The doctor looked puzzled.

“I forgot your name,” he said at last.

“Vivian Smole. This is my first visit”

“Can I call you Vivian?”

“I prefer Miss Smole.”

“Let’s start with a general checkup.”

A few minutes later, he made notes on a chart then stood back to look at her.

“Have you always...?”

“Been height challenged?”

He nodded.

“I am not a little person as it’s used today. As you can see, I have no markers of dwarfism. I am simply small, and I have always been so.”

“Do you experience medical issues associated with it?”

“Not so far. My difficulties are more practical. Not being able to reach things high up, not being able to find suitably adult clothing to fit, and so on.”

“Smole, that’s an unusual name.”

“Apparently is Olde Irish.”

The doctor nodded sagely. He filled out a ream of forms and handed them to her.

“I’d like you to get these tests at the hospital. Just standard you understand.”

Once outside the building, she shook herself. Her clothing turned green and old-fashioned while small shamrocks rained down upon her.

“What a poltroon!”