We're all off this long weekend except that I'm scrubbing in for a procedure that my pseudouncle is performing here early this morning. Then I'll have the rest of the day off.
Friday night's very ugly situation has resolved itself as much as it ever will, I suppose. I either posted or told someone there were a total of fourteen in the group, counting myself. A more accurate head count shewed that there were actually twelve of us in all. Seven claim to have known nothing about my exclusion from the club by the manager. Because I have no evidence to the contrary, I have chosen to believe those seven.
The remaining four (I was one of the twelve) have, for ll intents and purposes, placed themselves on my "I'd have to think long and hard about it before even dialing 9-1-1 if I found them in extreme medical distress, much less rendering any actual aid myself" list. For two of them, I'm comfortable leaving it at that. I'll offer a perfunctory greeting if I pass either of them in a hallway, but that's about as much as I will ever do for either of them. One of them is considering an oncology specialty. My dad has a somewhat prestigious hematology and oncology residency program. Suffice it to say that the person's chances of getting a match with my dad's program are somewhere between nonexistent and if my dad's program is so desperate for a candidate that it will probably fold if he doesn't obtain a match with that candidate, the program will fold. My dad doesn't typically allow me to meddle in the affairs of his business, nor do I even try, but he'll make an exception when I explain that I was stuck waiting for a cab all by myself outside well after the setting of the sun in a less-than-savory neighborhood due in a large part to the actions of a group of four individuals. End of story.
The remaining two of the four are not getting off quite so easily. It's been said that to err is human and to forgive is divine. I concede to being 100% human. I don't intend to ruin my own life by carrying around the heavy baggage of a grudge against these two women forever, but for the present time, I'm plenty strong to bear up under the weight of any grievance I have against them. In truth, it actually gives me a bit of additional spring in my step.
One of the two was the one who said to me directly, "You can go there if you want [pointing to a club across the street], but we're all going in here." if the club across the street, which was actually the nicer of the two establishments, hd also rejected me, I would have understood the group's choice to stay put. I wouldn't expect a group to travel the entire SF Bay Area region in order to find a bar or club that did not believe my driver's license was bogus. It just didn't seem to be asking so much that the group could cross the street one single time to see if I might have been granted admittance by the other place. And this may be a female thing, but it wasn't quite so much what she said as how she said it. This may jut have been my perception, but she seemed to take a bit too much pleasure in excluding me from the group.
My brother was to have a date with her last night. I explained what happened and what was her particular role in the fiasco. All i had to do was to tell him what happened. i didn't even have to ask him to call off his fate with her. He did it automatically. I would have done the same for him.
The second of the two people for whom I'm not quite willing to let the matter drop is a bit of a dim bulb. she applied to medical schools for four years before she was accepted to an MD program. I believe she was accepted into a couple of programs that grant doctorates in osteopathy; a doctor of osteopathy does practice medicine, but there are differences in what MDs and DOs are allowed to do, in the prestige of the degrees. and in the level of income earned by holders of the respective degrees. I ordinarily wouldn't hold something of this nature against a person (I wouldn't even know of this had she not told me), but in this particular case I'm looking for axes to grind.
This second person sent me a totally unsolicited text. In it, she wrote, "Boo hoo, Alexis. So you weren't allowed into one lousy bar. Did you know that it took me four years to get into an MD program, and I probably wouldn't even have gotten into this one if my grandmother hadn't made a substantial donation? [Editorial note: if such is indeed true, it doesn't speak well for my medical school.] You're always bragging about how young you are and how easy everything is for you. [Editorial note: i've never once boasted to my peers of either; why would I say something that would only make others hate me?] It's only fair that you should experience some rejection like the rest of us do once in awhile. boo hoo. Go cry to yourself, because no one else cares."
This woman is thirty years old. It's the sort of message I might expect to get from a thirteen-year-old, but not someone of her age. And I'm not sure why she even felt the need to send the message. I got it hours before Matthew broke off the date with the other woman, who was not even especially close to the girl with whom Matthew broke off the date, anyway. This woman obviously harbors rather intense resentment of me. Perhaps it's just as well that I know of this resentment, because it's easier to watch one's back if one knows who one's enemies are.
i haven't yet shown her text to anyone -- even Matthew. I could take the high road and show it to no one, but I'm not that big a person. I'll show it to someone -- possibly just one person -- because I think that this person could conceivably be dangerous to my career, and I wish to protect myself. I'm not going to pass it around freely among my peers, as doing such would merely stir up trouble. I will show it to a person who is in authority. Then, if this person ever makes an allegation that could be damaging to me professionally, i will have provided prior documentation that this classmate's issue with me has precedence and is personal.
It's good to know that it wasn't the entire group of twelve classmates disrespecting me, but rather, just four people, if I choose to believe that, and i am choosing to believe it. I can live easily enough with the idea that out of one hundred or so people, four are rat rectums. I really believed before any of this went down that we were, as a cohort, a cohesive unit. We weren't without disagreements, as it's impossible to work together closely, especially in a competitive environment, without conflict. Matthew tells me that we still are a cohesive unit, but that we have a few more complete jerks in the group than was previously thought.
I'm off to scrub for a partial lung transplant. Then the rest of the day is mine for hurdling, playing musical instruments, and even bar-hopping if I so choose, though that will not likely be an activity I will choose.