A Two-Act Play
If you worked at a restaurant, instead of at a clinic, and
your restaurant implemented an electronic medical record, this is what it would
be like.
Act 1: Steve, Sally and Host
Steve arrives at a restaurant, and walks up to the host with
his date. The host is looking at a screen.
Host (to screen): Welcome. Please tell me your name.
Steve: (After a few seconds, when the screen doesn’t
respond) I’m Steve.
Host: Steve. OK. Steve.
(Punches some keys)
Steve: Party of two.
Host: (stressed) Steve. You’ll have to slow down a bit. This
system is new.
Steve: OK.
Two minutes go by.
Host: Alright. Steve.
Can you spell Steve for me, please?
Steve: S-T-E-
Host: Oh, shit.
Steve: What?
Host: It froze. (grabs pencil, twists it in hands, it
breaks. Twiddles thumbs. Grabs mouse and clicks repeatedly.)
Steve: I just, I mean, I just want a sandwich. I come here
every week. Can I just go back and sit in my usual spot?
Host: (looks terrified) No, I don’t think so. This is really
important.
-Ten minutes later-
Host: OK. It’s up. Now how to do you spell Steve?
Steve: S-T-E-V-E.
Host: Great. Steve. Now I will need you to stand there while I
take your picture.
Steve: What? My picture? For the birthday wall?
Host: No, silly. For the computer. So your waiter will
remember who you are.
Steve: I’ve been coming here for 10 years. I’m pretty sure
he remembers…
Host: (looks stern.)
Steve: OK, fine.
- takes picture -
Host: And how will you be paying today?
Steve: Wait. I don’t get a sandwich first? Normally I pay
after.
Host: I know, but this box here has an asterisk next to it.
It won’t let me close this box unless I fill it. And if I can’t close this box
then I can’t open the Sandwich Encounter. If I don’t fill in all the asterisked
boxes then whole heads of lettuce might go to waste. Or something. I don’t
really know the details.
Steve: (Groans) I’ll pay cash, like I always do.
Host: OK, Steve. This will just take a few minutes.
Steve: (feels faint) I’m really getting hungry.
Host: Steve, how do you spell Cash?
Steve: C-A-S-H
Host: Good. And will your partner be eating a sandwich
today, too?
Steve: No, she usually gets a burger.
Host: (Worried) Are you sure? Because I need to close your account and open another for
her. Excuse me, ma’am, what is your name?
Sally: Um, I’m Sally.
Host: OK. Sally, are you a migrant farmworker?
Steve: What? I mean, what the hell does that matter?
Sally: No, it’s okay. Yes, I am.
Host: Good. We get money when we track that shit. (clicks
box) What is your ethnic background?
Sally: I am Iranian.
Host: What is that? Is that white Hispanic? Or white non-Hispanic?
Steve: It is white, non-Sandwich.
Host: Steve, please sit down.
Sally: I think I’m just not going to eat anything.
Host: that would probably be best.
-
types for 5 minutes –
Host: Good news! you can go sit in the waiting room now. It will be
about an hour wait. Here is a blinking light buzzer thing. Also a magazine
about retired people and colonoscopies.
(to line of 35 people): Next…
Act 2: Steve, Sally, and Ted
(Steve and Sally are sitting at a booth, reading a menu
advertising colonoscopies)
Steve (looks up): Hey! Ted! How are you?
Ted (who is the waiter): (wheels over a computer station)
Hello….
(Logs on for 2 minutes) Steve.
Steve: (suspicious) Ted. This has been a crazy day. But I’m
so glad to see you. I’ll have the usual.
Ted: (Looking at screen) This will just take a minute. OK.
Oh, wait. I’m in the other guy’s screen. (Clicks mouse for 30 seconds.) OK.
Steve. Now what brings you here to see me today?
Steve: Uh, sandwich? Like usual?
Ted: OK. I need to open the box about Sandwiches. Huh.
Probably under food, American. Steve, do you think your sandwich is more like a
pastry, or a vegetable?
Steve: Wait, what? It is a sandwich. I want a grilled cheese
sandwich. This is what I always get.
Ted: (confused) Are you sure? It’s not listed. I have to find it in these folders.
I’m just going to start typing under “General.” OK. So. When did you first want
a sandwich?
Steve: 10 years ago. Then again, today, about (sadly) 2 hours ago.
Ted: How big is the sandwich?
Steve: I’ll let you know when I see it.
Ted: On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is the sandwich?
Steve: It’s pretty good. Or I would have left about an hour
ago.
Ted: So, a 3? 4?
Steve: Is that how the scale works?
Ted: I have no idea. But I need to fill in this box. It’s
got an asterisk.
Steve: Wait a minute. How many boxes are there?
Ted: It’s like they never end. They just keep flying at me.
I’m not even sure what we’re talking about anymore.
Steve: (tries to make eye contact with Ted.) This is a
restaurant. I am Steve. I come here every week. I have a grilled cheese
sandwich every week.
Sally: I am Sally. I am Steve’s girlfriend. He really,
really just needs a sandwich.
Ted: I think I have to go get some help. Can you wait for a
few minutes?
Steve: Let me have a look at it.
Ted: No. Believe me,
you don’t want to. Well, maybe it wouldn’t hurt. Are you sure?
Steve: (turns computer console to himself, begins checking off
various boxes. Finally order is complete) Looks like we’re ready for the
grilled cheese!
Ted: Yes. Now I just have to electronically transmit it to those
guys in the kitchen.
(Steve and Sally stare in horror toward the kitchen where
several cooks are hovering over computers, no one is cooking, and smoke arises
from the grill where several sandwiches are burning alongside a keyboard)
Sally: I need to use the restroom.
Steve: (resigned) Go ahead. It will be awhile.
Sally walks away from the table, past Ted who is still
staring at the screen, into the kitchen, past the cooks, grabs some bread and
cheese and makes a sandwich.
- THE END -