My Doctor Redeems Himself

Several months ago I went to the doctor. He wanted to take some blood, run some tests, and since it was best that I not eat before the tests my appointment was for 7:30 in the morning. I went, he tested, and when he was done he made a suggestion.

"Since you're here, we may as well take a look at your prostate."

Which is how I came to find myself, at about 7:45 in the morning, bent over, pants around my knees, regretting my choice of underwear for the day. (What seems whimsically amusing when you think no one will see...)

This morning I was back at the doctor's office. My blood pressure was down -- not to where it should be, but down. The doctor went into his litany of denial: watch the salt, don't drink too much, avoid fast food, restaurants, especially Chinese restaurants.... "Doctor," I said, "you've pretty much taken away every single thing I eat."

"Well, wait," he says, "it's not all bad news. You can smoke marijuana. Don't smoke tobacco but I have no problem with responsibly using marijuana. And you can have sex, all the sex you want, with whoever you want -- just wear protection if you don't know them."

How can you not like a doctor who tells you to get high and get laid?

I wanted to ask for a prescription, though. Take that into the Walgreen's: "I'd like to get this filled -- generic is fine, thanks."

And how handy would that be in a bar? "You're cute. I need you to fill this prescription for me. Your place or mine?"?