I Accuse the Church and the State
God is not the truth- the Truth is god
Just Another Man
A Story of the Nazi Massacre of Kalavyrta
Bedtime Stories
Musings of a Cynic
- "A Routine Misdiagnosis"
Andy's Other Writings ...
An Excerpt From: "A Routine Misdiagnosis"
The waiting room in the joint is packed with dames in all stages of wear and tear. To tell you the honest truth, I feel edgy hanging around a roomful of cupcakes going sour. I’m leafing through a stale magazine pretending I’m speed-reading but to be on the level I’m killing time peeking at the scene. SeewhatI’msayin’?
About a half hour or thereabouts into this hanging around sealed-mouthed, a door flings open and an antique personality in faded warm-ups hurries through the room. “Be back in tventy. Need to pick up my kit from school,” he says in a heavy accent, and out he goes.
“This fella with the Durante shnozzolla,” I says to this broken-down mare, bright red lipstick smeared up to her mustache, next chair over to my right, “he ain’t by some chance the doc what’shisname?”
“But of course,” she says.
From the corner of my mouth I whisper to my Kathy on the left, “Let’s get outta here, baby.”
She says, “Ssshhh. Please, sweetie, be patient. We’ve been waiting this long, a little while longer won’t matter. Besides, we have nothing better to do with our time, remember?”
“You take a close look at the old boy? Why, to me, the trooper don’t look like he can piss even when his pants are on fire, let alone give me an opinion on my condition,” I says.
“Baby, please be nice,” says my Kathy.
Well, to make a long story short, after twenty minutes and change, the doc reappears huffing and puffing, dragging a little filly six or seven, and she’s a cutie.
“I wonder what the Missus’s doing all day?” I says under my breath, but I guess the gray-haired babe she got her hearing aid on full blast ’cause she picks up on my whispering and says, “Oh,” she says, “the doctor’s wife is young and very beautiful. A scratch golfer, you know. I hear she gets pretty upset if she fails to play daily her eighteen holes, holidays included.”
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