In an attempt to avoid entrusting my delicate skin into the hands of subway charlatan Dr. Jonathan Zizmor, I sent out a mass e-mail to a bunch of friends and co-workers to see if anyone could recommend a dermatologist here in the city. Being the underinsured freelancer that I am, I was hoping someone had a friend in the business who might be able to charge me a reasonable fee. Naturally, my friends are much better at delivering bitchy oneliners than helpful solutions, never mind the fact that there's a mole on my back that's seen more colors in the past year than Benjamin Moore.
FRIEND ONE: Ok, stop staring at the zit on my nose, you meanie! No, I don't know of one, sorry. Good luck. p.s. You're too young for a chemical peel.
FRIEND ONE: Ok, stop staring at the zit on my nose, you meanie! No, I don't know of one, sorry. Good luck. p.s. You're too young for a chemical peel.
FRIEND TWO: aren't you a bit young for botox? sorry, my guy retired and i need one myself ...
FRIEND THREE: My dermatologist is really good but he's Jewish so I'm not sure he'll go for the cute uninsured friend of a friend even though i think he has a crush on me. His office is a well-tuned machine and you can tell he caters to the HMO crowd because he has 3 exam rooms and he's in and out of them in a 3-5 minutes each (the nurses are setting up the other two when he's in one). You could call and see what an office visit costs for someone with no insurance. Like I said, he's very good and I would recommend him.
1 comment:
Your friends sound like my friends.
Be sure to get that mole checked. I hope it's nothing.
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