Medical office visits are intimations of mortality . . .
I had an appointment this morning to have blood drawn. Of the patients who went ahead of me, none of them left the office without elaborately thanking the receptionist.
“Thank you,” they all said with immense politeness.
Everyone is superstitious in the face of death. I’m a good person. I’m going to show what a good person I am by graciously thanking a humble receptionist and maybe they won’t find anything bad in my blood test and maybe I won’t die . . .