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Is It Me You’re Not Looking For

| Working | April 25, 2013

(My voice mail message is a recording of me singing the chorus of “Hello” by Lionel Richie with the words changed to include my name, number, etc. On this day, I notice my doctor’s office calling, and that I already have a missed call from them. I pick up the phone.)

Me: “Hello?”

Receptionist: “Wait, is this [my name]?”

Me: “Yes, this is she.”

Receptionist: “Darn it! I just called and got your voicemail, and it was so cute I called right back to hear it again! Why did you have to pick up the phone?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Receptionist: “Well, that’s okay. It is a great voicemail, though.”

Me: “Oh, uh, thanks…”

(She called back again the next day, presumably to hear my voicemail again because she didn’t leave a message!)

Inking And Thinking

| Right | April 25, 2013

(I am a young research nurse in an emergency department. I have a large, brightly-colored sleeve tattoo. A young girl—maybe 18 to 19 years old—is visiting a patient.)

Coworker: “Hey, come in here a minute. These girls really like your tattoo!”

(We go through the standard appreciation and explanation.)

Girl: “My mom always said if I got a tattoo, I would never get a decent job. Now I can tell her she’s wrong!”

Me: “Haha, yeah. I am living proof.”

(The girl smiles from ear to ear.)


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When The Pill Popper Pops

| Right | April 23, 2013

(My father is a physician. I am waiting to take him to lunch when a patient comes stomping out of his exam room with him.)

Patient: “All I’m saying is, I need a prescription for Vicodin!”

My Father: “Ma’am, I’m not writing you a prescription for that. Your condition is in no way severe enough for narcotic pain medication. I can prescribe you some Ibuprofen if you’d like something to help with inflammation.”

Patient: “F*** you! I said I needed Vicodin! My wrist really hurts, and other doctors have given it to me without all this s***!”

My Father: “I’m sorry your wrist hurts, but nothing shows up to suggest there is anything serious going on. If those other doctors will write you the prescription, you’re welcome to go to them for a second opinion.”

(It has become obvious that she is not getting what she wants, so she settles instead for cursing and yelling at my father as much as she can on her way out. She verbally abuses the nurse at the front desk, and then turns to deliver the best parting shot she can come up with.)

Patient: “You’re pathetic! Get a real f****** job!”

An Empty-Headed Action

| Related | April 23, 2013

(My wife has a bad kneecap, and has dislocated it several times. She also has a genetic nerve disorder, so she is very practiced at using all sorts of aids, canes, walkers, wheel chairs, and crutches. She’s graduating, and losing her internship, and her coworkers take her out to eat downtown.)

Coworker: “Oh! Here, let me help you get your chair down off the curb!”

Wife: “No, no, no! Watch this! Watch what I can do!”

(She shoos all her coworkers back at least five feet, then rolls her wheelchair backwards up to the edge of the curb. She promptly falls over backwards, slamming the back of her head into the roadway. We take her to the ER.)

Doctor: “You’ll be happy to know that I’ve looked over the x-ray of your head, and I didn’t find anything at all.”

Me: “Can I have that in writing? And a copy of the x-ray?”

Abstinence Is The Best Gay

| Working | April 13, 2013

(I am seeing my doctor for a yearly physical. Since the last time I’ve seen her, I have come out of the closet and started dating another woman.)

Doctor: “Are you dating anyone right now?”

Me: “Yes.”

Doctor: “Are you sexually active?”

Me: “Yes.”

Doctor: “What kind of birth control are you using? The Pill? Condoms?”

Me: “…Lesbianism?”

Doctor: “Oh, well, that works, too.”