Friday the 13th Special Guest Contributor Edition

photo: Getty images

One doesn't undergo seven surgeries in five years without spending some serious time at the Dr's office. Like piles of base miles to a world class cyclist, the fundamentals of reading year-old magazines and staring at the carpet while passing time in waiting rooms are the ham and eggs of a professional patiet such as my lovely wife A. Below, as a special guest contributor to this blog (whose only real rival is, of course, The New Yorker) is an email she sent me recently. Enjoy...

So I'm at Dr. S, my gastro-guy (he's the upper one, not the lower one) and there is a dude in the waiting room with me worth telling you about. First he spent about 10 minutes texting someone with a really old phone (where to get a letter "c" you have to push the correct # key 3 times). What made it awesome is it beeped really loud for each time he pushed. And it was a long text.

Then he got up and went to the water cooler and drank a Dixie cup of water like a maniac, gulping it so fast water trickled out the sides of his mouth. The cup holds like 1 ounce of water so I could not figure how he managed this. Then he belched loudly, repeatedly and LONG (no 'excuse me').

Next his phone rang and he told the caller that if they didn't stop texting him he'd change the number and call the cops!!! He was pissed! While he's screaming into the phone he's also trying to get some Tums out of a bottle and drops a bunch on the floor. So he picks them up and eats all of them. I'm talking about 8 Tums!

I'm trying so hard not to laugh or stare 'cause now he's back to texting but now it's angry texting with a very jabby pointer finger and muttering. I'm guessing he's at the doc today because of the hole he's burned in his gut from being a rager.