“Hmmmm. Can you spell your last name again?”
“Hmmmmm. What is your date of birth, again, ma’am?”
“I’m just not finding you. How about your street address?
Also, for the sake of this scenario, there are four other people behind you impatiently waiting to register for their own appointments. You start to feel a bead of sweat pop up on your forehead.
“Can you spell your last name again?” Nothing. The registration lady calls for help. A supervisor slides her chair over. You’re feeling a little hot. Isn’t it humid in this damn clinic, today?
“Oh! Are you DEAD NAME DEAD NAME BOODOOTY DEAD DAMN NAME?”