Friday, August 15, 2014

If there is one thing I dislike more than a Doctors office, I can’t think of it.

Or, maybe I can. A hospital.

That dislike was re-introduced to me over the last couple of weeks. About two weeks ago I’d cause to speak with the Doctors assistant and she asked me if I smoked and I told her I did. She said I didn’t smell like it.

To which I said I’d taken a bath.

To which she asked if that was my yearly bath or special.

Many thoughts circulated through and among the BB’s of my mind, but I gummed my tongue and simply allowed as how it was my yearly, or near enough to count as such. She nodded and we got on with business.

Then this next appointment was a necessary thing, I needed stiches removed and the same assistant  was the one for  the debrief and I asked her if she remembered our conversation about bathing. She said that she did, so . . .

I asked her, in the interests of accuracy, if skinny dipping in the stock tank was counted as bathing and she said she didn’t think so.

So, I’m stuck with that former visit and dthat as my yearly.

She dis say she was glad it hadn’t been hot like in July.

I hate Doctors offices.

_____

From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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One Response to Friday, August 15, 2014

  1. Linda Geenen says:

    I like the reference to the stock tank. Keep up the skinny dipping. I hate doctor’s offices too. Been in and out of a number of them lately.

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