Thursday

Terror on the highway


I have mentioned my upcoming visit to my Doctor, and I know you've been worried sick about it.  Thanks for asking. I was listening to The Marshall Tucker Band and cleaning my toenails with a Bowie knife when I awoke with a shudder!  How did I know The Marshall Tucker Band?  Why would I touch (or for that matter - recognize) a Bowie knife?  Why would my toenails have anything but lavender talcum powder and cashmere fluff on them?  What a hideous way to start the day.  I glanced at the clock 7:58 am. Am I still in the nightmare?  I set the alarm for 10:30, and I never wake-up early.  This day has horror written on it already.  After the three S's (shit shower shave) I dress in loose fitting clothes and set out.  One needs loose clothing because the nurses are always pulling sleeves up and down, pants legs the same.  I always offer to completely undress at the weigh-in scale (we all know they want it) but they pretend to have no interest.  Back to my tale of woe.  I get in the car and head out.  It is a sunny day, but strangely cold.  There is a wicked wind blowing towards me, as if to say 'no kabuki - danger danger - go back home'.  kabuki does not scare easily, so I pay no heed.  I turn on the radio "Hi it's the Electric Cafe.  Who am I speaking to?" Obviously a talkative DJ.  "Hey, its Sonny, I'm working outside in Ashburn, could ya play 'Simple Man' by Lynyrd Skynyrd for me and the guys?" a country boy inquired. "Sure. I'd love to, what are you and the guys doing today?" the nosy lady DJ had to ask.  "Well, we're workin outside and I'm all covered in mud.  It ain't pretty" Sonny answered.  Dear readers, the power window had almost completely closed on my neck before my fingers found Duran Duran playing on another staion.  I was barely 10 minutes outside of my little gated-community and there had already been an attempt on my life!  It was by me - but little details are best ignored in times of crisis - as they will just slow you down.  Now with heightened senses and alert to all possible threats, I made it safely to the Doctors' office.  Relieved to be safely at my destination I headed for the door.  The Doctors' office was packed, like Lady Gaga was giving away jewelery or something.  People everywhere, standing room only.  Was I getting an award?  Did they need me to speak?  I hadn't prepared anything but was ready for a 'these are the times that try mans' soul' impromptu speech.  Probably about 20 minutes.  (Any longer and their little eyes glaze over.)  I was touched by the teary red-eyes and sniffling.  These people were overcome with joy, and I had yet to utter a word.  Someone sneezed and my reality shattered.  These were sick people!  Dozens of them!  In my Doctors' office!  Aren't there laws?  Don't they have any common sense?  Stay home and let the normal people conduct their medical business in safety and private.  As it should be.  I approached the receptionist, I noticed she had masks.  "May I have a mask?" I asked sweetly.  "Are you coughing and sneezing?" She asked back . "Not yet" I answered.  "No" was her icy reply.  "I'll be back as soon as I start coughing" I stated, turned and went to sit down.  I menatally pictured her with phlegm in her hair.  Some contagious invalid offered me their seat and I took it gladly.  Don't want to wear myself out standing and end up like these poor souls.  I looked at the woman next to me.  She had no eyebrows, surely a horrible condition ails her.  I clenched my sphincter and tried to breath little, clean air breaths.  Her cell-phone rang.  sort of.  Her ring-tone was crickets and frogs.  I knew it was a signal to the others.  I tensed, ready to strike first - the receptionist called me up to her counter of germs, and ushered me inside the sterile sanctity of the examination room.  When I finally departed (my doctor takes forever), the waiting room was empty.  Even the receptionist was gone, her desk-of-disease deserted.  Their plot had failed, again, due in no small part to my cunning mind and lightning fast reflexes.  There is a lesson here people, I'm just not sure what it is.  I am pretty sure it has something to door with hygene, or maybe frogs - possibly even eyebrows.  What did the doctor say?  Oh who cares, is that why you came here today?  Really?  Really?

10 comments:

  1. My prescription: a competent chauffeur and an ipod.
    You will then have no need for a doctor.

    PS My drive home tonight should have been an Olympic event. The people were fuckin' nuts on the road.

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  2. Mona Lisa had no eyebrows.

    What KIND of doctor?

    Are you having some work done, darling?

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  3. Dear Kabuki
    You have not lost your talent for clearing a room I see.
    In times of despration one must sometimes face the ravages of the public health system.
    Well done, you have survived the ordeal admirably

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  4. here's a timely tip.....DRINK A FLEET ENEMA! you'll be amazed at what you say!

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  5. Felix: hollywood traffic and a full moon. I'm surprised you made it home alive.
    MJ: I never discuss medical procedures. Felix taught me that. (yes - he's had work done)
    kabuki thanks princess - i simply adore you
    NormaDesmond - you first sweetie

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  6. I'm sure the doctor was terribly flattering and commented on your shoes. He did, didn't he?

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  7. It's like you were there. spooky. except she is a female - or so I was led to believe. You may have just uncovered a medical fraud. my doctor is a cross-dresser! what other secrets is the medical community keeping from me.

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  8. All "female" doctors are trannies. It's a known fact.

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  9. Oh good gawd. Peenee's here.

    There goes the neighbourhood.

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  10. Mr. Peenee is providing valuable information regarding the 'medical community'. My beauty secrets are being studied by 'doctors', no doubt for nefarious purposes. All champions require allies.

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