The Story About My Name

“When Ginger snaps” is a reference to something that I used to listen to daily. For seven years I was an office manager for an optometrist. A very, VERY picky optometrist. He was, to put it mildly, anal, obsessive and compulsive. Every detail of his office was carefully managed and controlled, starting with how we were instructed to answer the phone and ending with the exact position the window blinds needed to be left in at the end of the day. (Turned so that he could look down through them and make sure no one was lurking in the bushes underneath the windows. I’m not kidding, I can’t make this stuff up.)

My answering the phone line had two versions. The first one was, “Hello. Dr. Anal Compulsive’s office, this is Ginger. How can I help you?” The second line was to be used whenever you were already on the line and had to place the caller on hold. Then, I would say,”Hello. Dr. Anal Compulsive’s office, this is Ginger. Can I put you on hold, please?”

Occasionally, I would get flusterd and I’d say, “Hello, Dr. Anal Compulsive’s office, this is Ginger, can I hold you please?” To which, I’ve heard a few delighted male voices exclaim, “Hell YEAH, you can hold me!”

There was another Doctor, besides Dr. Anal Compulsive, that worked there on a part time basis. Well, he wasn’t REALLY a Doctor but that’s another story. He was trained and orchestrated by Dr. Anal Compulsive to do the refractions. That’s the part of the exam where the Doctor says, “Which line looks better, A or B?” Which, incidentally, I learned to do years later, for a FEAMLE opthalmologist. But, being a 30-something attractive blonde, I was not qualified, you see, to learn to do refractions for Dr. Anal Compulsive. That is where Dr. Not Really a Doctor was useful. He was a distinguished older gentleman, with buggy eyes and thick glasses who articlated well, and and ate meatloaf sandwiches every day for lunch. Besides, he hung his ties in alphabetical order (alphabatized by color, in which “blue” would come before “red”, yes, I asked), and he had a “system” he used at the movies (he and his wife had to wait until ALL the preveiws were over before they could eat the first bit of popcorn). These were the type of traits which Dr. Anal Compulsive greatly admired.

Dr. Not Really a Doctor would call. I’d answer the phone: “Hello. Dr. Anal Compulsive’s office, this is Ginger. How can I help you?”

To which Dr. Not Really a Doctor would reply, “Does Ginger bite, or does Ginger snap?” Then he would chuckle, in a wheeze, whistley-sounding way that he had.

And I would snap, “Ginger is biting AND snapping today!”

Trust me. I had alot of things trying to make me snap. I used to say that I was going to start a support group someday for women who worked for Doctors. I still might. I’m not sure why Dr. Not Really a Doctor always asked me that. I think he just liked having an excuse to say “Gingersnap”. But, possibly he sensed how close I was to a nervous breakdown and was hoping to provide a little comic relief. Maybe a little of both.

You know, I really did like Dr. Not Really a Doctor. I miss him, as I sit here sipping down my favorite drink….a Red Snapper.