Dear Mr. Smithers*
You're probably a busy man, and may even be a little bored, but can I make a few suggestions?
Firstly, you are supposed to put me at my ease, not the other way round. Chat, talk about the weather; anything but that dour professional silence. I'm on your territory, so it's your job to make me feel at home.
Now I know I'm not the most hilariously amusing person you've ever come across, but humour me. When I try to crack a little joke or make some merry quip (I do this to put myself at ease, since you're obviously not going to), at least smile. Come on, now. It wouldn't hurt you,would it? The receptionists laughed heartily when I was filling in that form without my glasses, and said I needed my eyes testing. That wasn't funny, either, but they humoured me. I like your receptionists.
When I ask whether I'm safe to drive, instead of going all po-faced and telling me I'm legal, but you 'can't possibly say that I'm safe', explain yourself. I know you're covering your back, but a little more information would be nice.
Don't puff that thing at my eyeballs. I don't like it. It makes me jump.
And don't turn your nose up at my Amazon off-the-peg glasses. They work just fine.
Lastly, had you ever though if being, say, a chartered accountant? I think it would suit you better than your present calling.
Your reproachfully etc.etc.
PS Your parting shot was that you'd see me in two years. Well, not if I see you first, you won't. Next time, I'm going to Specsavers.
*Not your real name. But then, you know that.