A year after yelling at the resident about her lack of common sense, I was sitting in a bar with some friends. Unbeknownst to me, we were surrounded by a bunch of vet students, one of whom was my friend, Ben.
“Hey, Snarky,” Ben said. (Okay, he didn’t call me Snarky. He called me by name.)
“Hey, Ben,” I said.
“Wait,” said a young woman sitting with him. “You’re Snarky?”
“Uh…” I glanced at Ben for a little help. Why did this random woman think she knew who I was?
Before Ben could open his mouth, several more women leaned toward my table. “You’re Snarky?”
Ben bowed his head and started laughing, but didn’t offer assistance.
“Well,” I said, thinking they had me confused with someone else, “that’s my name, but there are a lot of us around. I don’t think…”
“You’re the one who yelled at Dr. Resident last year!” one of the very young women squealed.
“Uh…” I glanced at Ben, who was nodding his head and still laughing. Seriously, that’s what this was about? “Yeah…I guess.”
“We’ve heard about you,” another one said. “You’re a scary bitch.”
I glared at her. “You have no idea.”
