I may be a college-age woman who went to a public, co-ed high school with no school uniform and no framed paintings of 18th century dandies lining the halls, but at the Brown Health Services Building—you could have had me fooled. Look at those classy tiled floors! The decorative moulding along the walls! That grandfather clock! This extravagance that I have become accustomed to!
See those partitions by the computers where you check in? Those are to protect my privacy, because I’m a snot-nosed little tyke important enough that someone would actually want to steal my personal information. I am very concerned with my right to privacy because all of my other rights are already enshrined in public law. I’m wearing a navy blue blazer with elbow pads, some chinos, a pair of oxfords, a clip-on tie, and loving it.
Hehehe! Imagine all of the trouble I can get into here and how I will get away with it all! Maybe I will deface a Roman bust! Maybe I will spike the water cooler! Maybe I will bring the polo horse inside in-between classes! Maybe I will commit tax fraud! I have a great lawyer.
Hohoho, and that’s not all that I have up my J.Crew sleeves; this little scheme-lord has other grand designs. Maybe I will cut the hedges in the rose garden into an obscene shape! Maybe I will lie with the headmaster’s daughter! Maybe I will jounce a tree branch while my friend and I are jumping into the pond and cause him to break his leg! Got to be careful around those tree branches. I have a great lawyer.
Check out those scuff marks on the floor! That was from the time my old pal old sport old chap Preston and I played floor hockey down here buck naked with a Fabergé egg as the puck. Nothing like some good male-male homosocial bonding! My father is a Yale man.
Take a gander at that grand, winding staircase ascending into the upper echelons of society! Got to be careful around that too. Would hate for my friend to break his leg again in a way that definitely isn’t my fault. My wealth has severely stunted my sense of empathy.
Look at those framed vintage posters in the examination room! Those were the good old days when you didn’t have to wear a seatbelt and you could smoke in doctor’s office. Those were the good old days when you could pinch a woman’s bottom and she would take it as a compliment. Those were the good old days when only white people could vote. There is a library in my plantation-style house.
Get a load of this doctor and his waxed mustache twirled up at the ends! Just like my uncle Seymour who just sold all of his garnet mines in Montana for billions has. Look at him write me a note for some medicine! Not that I it need because I’m a tough little rapscallion, but I’ll probably take it anyways so I can get down to my mischief all the sooner. Yeah I’ll probably take it anyways because that’s the good stuff haha, right boys? I did coke before I smoked weed.
Oh? The medicine will be $43? Just for like twelve pills and some ointment? Are you sure that is right? Even with my insurance card? Can I see the invoice? Oh—oh no that’s fine. No problem at all. I have pocket squares that cost thrice that amount.
Amazing, old sport.