RRCBlog

My father and I are sitting in the waiting room at his doctor’s office. In walks a middle-aged woman pushing an impossibly old woman in a wheelchair–mother and daughter, we assume. It’s the old woman’s first visit, so she has to fill out the requisite reams of paperwork. The middle-aged daughter asks the questions, the impossibly old lady croaks out the answers and the middle-aged daughter dutifully records them. The impossibly old lady can barely hear so the questions and answers are loud enough for my father and I to hear. “WHAT DID YOUR FATHER DIE OF?” the middle-aged woman asks.

“WHAT?” asks the old lady.
“WHAT KILLED YOUR FATHER?”
“OH! CONGESTIVE HEART FAILURE!”
“AND WHAT DID YOU MOTHER DIE OF?”
“WHAT?”
“WHAT KILLED YOUR MOTHER?”

My father leans close to me and softly says “I’m gonna say ‘Indians.’ ”

This entry was posted on Friday, November 2nd, 2007 at 9:24 pm and is filed under OG. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.