Jump to content
  • entries
  • comments
  • views

The Taxi Driver and the Doctor



The Doctor

So, I haven't been making many comments in this here Blogging thingy, mainly because of all the issues we had organising our finances and preparing for our dementia which will hopefully be delayed by all the supplements and vitamins I take.

I showed the doctor all my pills and powders, and gave him the print outs of all the websites that proclaim longevity if you take this and don't eat that. He perused the documents with what I suspect was related to Pecman's speed reading faculty.

The doctor looked up and told me that he had no idea so much research was being done on alternative treatment to keep people alive. His experience was confined to merely getting his patients in contact with big pharma which he doesn't trust much more than I do, but sometimes pharmaceuticals offer the best answer to maintaining a quality of life when quantity of life is teetering on being compromised.

I told the doctor that if you didn't take the medicine you die in two weeks, but if you did take the medicine you would die in a fortnight. He grinned and said I sounded like his old med school professor.

I was relieved to know that all my test results were in normal range and I could expect to survive somewhat longer than my hypochondria predicted.

The Taxi Drivers

I had to travel to and from the doctor in a taxi because the beloved one is using the car to go work. The taxi driver going to the doctor was a serious Middle Eastern gentleman. It seems like the Muslim invasion in Australia is starting with taking over our taxi fleets.

The taxi driver on the way home was, I suspect, of Mediterranean origin. He was friendly and courteous.

When we pulled up at my house he announced that he was going home to his family as he had had enough for the day.

I told him I was going to make some coffee and go on the Internet.

He asked, "Does your wife complain?"

"I don't have a wife," I replied.

"What about a girlfriend?" he inquired.

"I don't have a girlfriend...I have a boyfriend."

He eyes widened and he turned in his seat to look at me.

O, this is interesting, I thought to myself.

He stuttered and finally managed to say, "Oh so you are one of th..er, one that comes from that side."

Then he quickly followed with, "Do you enjoy that? Does your boyfriend?"

"Well, we've been doing it for over 40 years, so I guess we enjoy it."

"Forty years, together?"

"Yes," I said. (Did he think we did it in separate rooms?)

He was getting excited as he told me that he and his wife were married for 40 years. He then held up his closed fist and I knew that Harvey Milk was right, you just have to let people know who you are and they will bump fists with you, which we did, celebrating our common pursuit of marital happiness. He smiled as I exited the cab and then he drove away.

I wondered if I would have told the first taxi driver...somehow I don't think so, but then again, the opportunity never arose.


Recommended Comments

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
  • Create New...