How's It Hangin'?

I have a bee in my bonny bonnet.

- Stefanie Hauger

As I sit in my doctor’s waiting room (they really ought to be called restless-and-so-bored-rooms), I am confronted again with what might be my biggest pet peeve: artwork hanging so high you require carabiners and an ax to come nose-to-signature with the work.

Perhaps the justification behind this (it really is mind-bogglingly common) is that doctors don’t want thousands of patients’ greasy heads leaning back against their vinyl walls and devaluing their $30 Ikea Breaching Whale poster—which cost substantially less than the average doctor’s bill, so the maths doesn’t compute. Surely, it’s a risk worth taking, bearing in mind that the vast majority of panacea-seeking humans don’t cozy up willy-nilly to whales with unwashed hair (their hair, not the whale’s, clearly) or run their filthy fingers across them or wilfully deface salle d’attente art collections. They are generally more focused on their name being called out.