Written for Esther’s “Can You Tell A StoryIn…..? #283” – exactly 38 words using the five requiredprompts: ‘operation’, ‘attract’, ‘vanilla’, ‘pram’ and ‘quack’. In 38 words, this is my very short story.
Written for Jim Adams’ Song Lyric Sunday post entitled ‘Doctor’s Day’ and the theme of doctors and all the work they do. Here’s my response to the challenge.
“So, what brings you here today, Lou?” asked Dr. Patterson.
“I can’t sleep,Doc!” replied Lou in despair. “I’m so tired! I haven’t slept a wink!”
“If I had a dollar for every time I heard that!” laughed the doctor. “Look, Lou. Of all the ailments people discuss with me, the greatest number of complaints isn’t about body aches, irritable bowels, erectile dysfunction or psoriasis: the most talked-about topic is lack of sleep. Falling asleep at bedtime and getting a good night’s rest is a problem that plagues millions so you’re not alone in this. I’m going to ask you some questions; let’s see if we can come up with a solution.”
Lou yawned and nodded in agreement. His wife Marie chimed in. “Maybe you should start by telling the doctor how much coffee you drink every day.”
“Ok, that’s an excellent suggestion. How much coffee do you drink, Lou?” asked Dr. Patterson, his fingers hovering over the keys of his computer.
“Oh, I guess about eight cups a day and an espresso after dinner. We have one of those – whatchamacallits – Nespresso machines. Fantastic things! Just pop in a little plastic capsule and brew yourself fresh coffee in no time”
“Whoa! That’s a lot of caffeine!” The doctor was clearly surprised.” You need to cut back. If you drink that much coffee, at least half of it should be decaf. I’d like to eventually get you down to just one cup of regular coffee in the morning. How about alcohol?”
“Go ahead, Lou. Answer the doctor” Marie said, giving her husband a nudge with her elbow.
“I’ll have a couple of glasses of my cousin Carlo’s homemade vino while Marie’s preparing dinner. And another glass or two with dinner. Oh yeah, I like a nice sambucca while I’m watching “The Tonight Show” with that Jimmy Fallon. He’s a funny guy!”
The doctor stared at Lou allowing his words to sink in. “That’s five alcoholic drinks per day!” Dr. Patterson was flabbergasted.
“Give or take. Yeah, that sounds about right” was Lou’s reply as the doctor shook his head in amazement.
“What form of exercise do you engage in?” the doctor asked.
“Exercise!?” squawked Marie. “The strongest parts of his body are hisfingers … from pushing himself away from the dining room table, surfing the interweb and using the remote control.He gets his exercise by watching Stallone running up and down those steps in that Rocky movie … as if that’s gonna work, you stupid jackass!”
Lou’s eyes shot daggers at his wife. She shrugged. “What? It’s the truth, Lou, and you know it.”
“What about your diet, Lou?” asked Dr. Patterson while eyeing Lou’s sizable belly.
“Diet? I ain’t on no diet, doc! My Marie is a fabulous cook!” Lou exclaimed, making her blush. “She makeseverything from scratch, including her pizza, pasta, braciola, arancini – you name it, she can make it. And her ricotta cheesecake? Fuggedaboutit!”
“Well, it’s wonderful that Marie’s such a great cook but it sounds like you’re eating a lot of rich, fattening foods” the doctor replied with concern.
“What’s wrong with pizza?” Lou asked incredulously. “It’s the perfect food – something from all the food groups. You got your carbohydrates, your protein and your dairy, right?”
“Well, technically, yes but I wouldn’t call it ‘the perfect food’. Dr. Patterson entered all Lou’s information into his computer. “Let me get this straight, Lou. Your caffeine and alcohol intake is off the charts, you eat rich foods and desserts, you spend a lot of time in front of some type of device, you stay up late and you don’t exercise. Is that about right?”
“Yeah, I guess” Lou admitted begrudgingly.
“Do you realize that everything you’re doing is adversely affecting your quality of sleep? And what about you, Marie! How well do you sleep?”
“Who, me? Why, I sleep like a rock” Marie answered proudly.
“You’re not kidding! You should hear her snore, doc!” Lou guffawed. “What a racket! It sounds like bocce balls rolling around the court! Hey! That’s probably why I can’t sleep!”
Marie huffed indignantly.
“You snore, Marie? Sounds to me like you could have sleep apnea – a serious disorder. Considering everything we’ve discussed I’m referring you, Lou, to a life management specialist. And Marie, I’m scheduling a sleep disorder study for you.”
Lou and Marie stared at the doctor in shock.
“Can’t you just give me some sleeping pills?” pleaded Lou.
“And maybe all I need are some of those nose strips” Marie suggested hopefully.
“I’m afraid not. You need to make some serious life changes” replied the doctor showing Marie and Lou to the door. “Just stop by the desk on your way out and Victoria will have all the paperwork ready for you.”
“Thanks a lot, Marie, making me tell the doctor everything! Now I gotta see a specialist!” Lou griped. “This is all your fault!”
“Oh, shut up, Lou! Thanks to you, I gotta go for a sleep study! Well, you can get your own damn dinner tonight. I’m on strike!”
Playboy: a man, especially one who is of comfortable means, who pursues a life of decadent pleasure with multiple women.
Meet Dr. Robert Chase. Even in hospital scrubs, cap and a surgical mask with only his eyes visible, the man was an Adonis. It may be hackneyed but women wanted him and men wanted to be him.
He was rich, handsome, clever – an expert on the dance floor or in the OR, adroit in the boardroom or the bedroom, charming but not cloying. He attracted people and he was admired by all.
Robert was what is called in the trade a ‘nip/tuck guy’ – a plastic surgeon whose clientele consisted of rich women looking for bigger boobs, fuller lips, tighter butts and curvier hips. There was no doubt he had hooked up with most of his patients. In his office he had a provocative poster – half woman/half cello – with a quote by Pablo Casals: “The cello is like a beautiful woman who has not grown older, but younger with time, more slender, more supple, more graceful.”
However, there were two peculiar qualities about Robert that defied explanation: #1) He was married to a gorgeous, funny and smart woman, one any man would be proud to call his wife; why the insatiable need for other women? #2) For someone who was incredibly worldly, he could be uncharacteristically naïve. Perhaps it was his ego or self-denial that made him so reckless as to give women his real name, home and cell phone numbers – the road to perdition.
Robert was the keynote speaker at a medical convention in Miami. Since he wasn’t slated to speak until the third day, he decided to troll the beach to check out the ladies. It wasn’t long before he spotted a fetching redhead chasing her errant beach umbrella in the wind. He came to her rescue, catching the umbrella and securing it in the sand. They talked for a while – her name was Scarlet – and made plans to get together that night for dinner. Robert was his usual charming self and the evening ended with Scarlet inviting him back to her room where he spent the night. In the morning they exchanged phone numbers and he kissed her goodbye.
That afternoon Robert discovered a topless beach and, as a nip/tuck guy, he was in his element. He strolled over to the tiki bar and struck up a conversation with a voluptuous blonde named Denise. Giving her his business card, she jumped up, grabbed his hands and planted them on her breasts. “Feel them!” she demanded. “Do you think they’re the same size?” Not skipping a beat, Robert suggested they go up to her room where he could give her a “proper exam”. He was quite thorough and it didn’t take much convincing for him to spend the night. Next morning he put Denise’s number into his phone and bid her farewell.
Leaving Denise’s hotel, Robert collided with a bikini-clad goddess on roller skates. They tumbled onto the boardwalk clinging to each other. Looking into Robert’s eyes, she said ,”I’m Rita. Pleased to meet you.” Biting her bottom lip, she asked if he’d like to join her for coffee “or something”. Robert groaned in frustration, explaining that he’d love to but he had to get back to his conference. After exchanging names and numbers, he impulsively kissed her, promising to call.
At the close of the convention, Robert was invited by three other doctors to stay in Miami for a few days of golf. Robert agreed and called his wife Sophia to tell her he’d be home in four days. They played eighteen holes every day and relaxed in the evening with prime steaks, fine whiskey, Cuban cigars .. and girls galore. Robert was a legend among his friends and they were duly impressed. They would joke around by saying “Dr. Robert Chase .. always on the case.”
Finally after a week away from home, Robert was ready to return to his lovely Sophia. If she knew of his philandering, she never let on. She was always occupied with lunching and shopping with her friends or going to the spa. And he was sure to return with shiny baubles, flowers and Italian chocolates .. her favorite. On the plane ride home to Santa Monica, Robert busied himself by looking through his iPhone at all the new lady friends he met in Miami. There they were in all their glory .. names, numbers and photos. Don’t want to lose track of those lovelies!
Robert’s driver Charles met him at the airport and upon arriving home he was surprised to see some unfamiliar cars on the driveway. Grabbing Sophia’s gifts, he bounded up the stairs and into the house calling her name. Sophia came running to greet him. “Hurry, Robert! You must say hello to my guests!” She pulled him out to the veranda and much to Robert’s shock there sat Scarlet, Denise and Rita .. all looking like the cat who swallowed the canary.
“Darling”, Sophia purred. “You’ve been a very busy boy. You see, when these charming ladies started calling here looking for you, I decided it would be nice if we all met and had a little chat. They certainly had a lot to tell me about you and Miami. Are you alright, darling? You look very pale. Here, have something to drink.” But before Robert had a chance to reach for the glass of champagne, Sophia threw it at him and slapped him hard across the face.
Robert reeled from the smack. He was stunned, humiliated, desperate and begged pitifully, “Sophia, please, let me explain.”
“No! Not one more lying word from your filthy mouth! What a damn fool I’ve been all these years!” Sophia snarled at him. “Your bags are packed and Charles will drive you to a hotel. Do not try to see me or contact me in any way. My lawyer will be in touch. And Robert, before you go .. leave the gifts.”
The Elephant's Trunk 