"Oh, well you have to go to the desk on the left."
At this point, a line from an old Depeche Mode song popped into my head: "Well I don't want to start any blasphemous rumors/but I think that god has a sick sense of humor/and when I die I expect to find him laughing."
I told the nurse that I has been instructed to go to the right, but it didn't seem to affect her. I decided to switch tracks.
"Uh, how long do you think the wait is?"
"I really don't know."
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"Well, 15 minutes, half and hour...?"
"Well, a half hour. But actually, it's probably more."
"Thanks," I said. Then I turned around, left the building and bought a bottle of Nyquil at Christy's.