Weed Whacking

I can’t remember the last time I didn’t write here for a week. It feels like a deserted back yard, all snarled with weeds and long grass. Here is a true story from yesterday.

***

In the Doctor’s Office Waiting Room,

A pretty, young thing is listening to her headphones and staring at her lap.
I am reading a book and sniffling while my face pulses with sinus pain.
A man sits between us. He wears a baseball cap and has several plastic bags full of groceries around his feet. He is staring at the cabinet full of Products to Fix your Excessive Perspiration Problem.

(Yes, this doctor’s office is also a beauty treatment / botoxing / laser facility. I had no idea there was more than one like this in the world but now I have been in two, so there you go.)

We are listening to QMFM, Vancouver’s lightest hits, playing a non-stop mix of Michael Bolton, Mariah Carey, Otis Redding and Nickelback. Yes, Nickelback. Yes, this pleases me because if they’re being playing on the easy listening station, THAT IS THE END OF THE ROAD for Nickelback.

Suddenly, the guy leans over to the pretty, young thing and says,

“What kind of juice is that?”

He has an accent. Also, he is about 60 years old. He is gesturing to her bottle of purple Gatorade.

“Grape,” she says.
“Grapefruit?” he says.
“GRAPE,” she says.
“Grape. Fruit?” he says.
“G-r-a-pe,” she says.
“Grape,” he says.
“Yeah.”

She turns away. Nice try, girlfriend. He is having none of that.

“You know,” he says, “that has too much sugar in it for you.”
“Mmm,” she says.
“You should eat grapefruit,” he says.
“Hmm,” she says.
“How much did that juice cost?” he says.
“About two bucks,” she says.
“Two dollars!”
“Yes.” She laughs self-consciously.

He moves to the seat right next to her and leans in, but does not speak as quietly as I wish he would.

“You know,” he says, “I buy FOUR GRAPEFRUIT for two dollars.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes. Four. And I eat one every day. And I lost ten pounds in a month! Just eating grapefruit!”
“Wow.”
“For two dollars!”
“Wow.”
“Of course you don’t need to lose any weight,” he says, “you’re skinny.”

I remember the whole 20 minute conversation but I won’t write the whole thing down for you. He went from grapefruit to vitamins to exercise (never at night; only in the morning) to divorce to music being good for your soul to spirituality to his prostate. He used to pee several times a night. Now he pees only once!

I didn’t ask why he was at the doctor if he was so healthy. I thought maybe he was a shill for the grapefruit growers of North America.

I also didn’t ask if I could reproduce his conversation on the Internet because I think he wouldn’t mind. After all, he has important messages for the world! Grapefruit! Etc! If he wanted to keep it private, he could have not started talking to the pretty young thing in the first place OR kept his voice down so that I could have enjoyed listening to Nickelback et al in peace.

We waited patiently and he went in to see the doctor, and then he left. Then I got to see the doctor, who told me I had fluid in my ears, no polyps in my nose, and a probably sinus infection because of the flu, and I left.

***

Blogging unrelated to illness will recommence real soon now.

(Except for my play-by-play of Applying A Mustard Poultice, but I’m saving that one for a special occasion.)