Every year, on the day after my birthday, I like to take stock of my life to make sure that everything is running as smoothly as a Swiss watch.
That’s why I made an appointment for this morning to see Doctor Teitelbaum, my family doctor.
“How’s it going with you and Sophia?” he asked as he took my blood pressure.
“Not good at all.”
“I know. I know.”
“How do you know?”
“Sophia already told me when she came in for her checkup two weeks ago.”
Dr. Teitelbaum received a telephone call.
“I’ll be back.” he said, and Emily, Dr. Teitelbaum’s nurse, came in to take my blood.
“And how’s everything, Neil?” Emily asked as she stabbed the needle in my arm. “Any health problems I need to put on the chart?”
“You sure? Any lack of sexual desire? Difficulty with erections? Premature ejaculation? Crying after sex? Inability to find the clitoris? Lack of affection? Bad kissing technique?”
“Uh, no. Everything is fine. Why? What did you hear?”
“Just part of the yearly check-up.”
She bandaged me up.
“Thanks, Neil. Regards to Sophia!” she said, as she exited. “Please tell her to call me when you return to New York. We wanted to check out that new club in Manhattan Beach!”
Dr. Teitelbaum returned, reading a chart.
“OK, I’m back. Hmmm….” he murmered with a worried look on his face.
“Is there a problem.”
“Just reading your blog’s chart. How’s the blog this year? How’s your readership?”
“Oh, it’s great. My readers are terrific.”
“I’m not quite sure about your demographic.”
“What do you see?”
He handed me my blog’s chart.
“Well, according to Quantcast, the professional web tool used to quantify the size and characteristics of those engaged with your digital media. most of your readership consists of poor middle-aged Asian men who make 0-30K year.”
“It is? It thought most of my readers were MILFs!?”
“No, Neil. You are imagining that. Why would they want to read you when they can read Bossy or the Bloggess? Maybe it is time that you start writing more posts about poor middle-aged Asian men.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“No. Doctor’s orders.”
Dr, Teiltelbaum pulled over his chair and patted me on the knee in a fatherly manner.
“So, Neil. Anything else? Anything else you want to tell me about?”
“I’m feeling pretty good. Solid. Looking forward to my new year of life with a positive attitude.”
“I see. That’s great. But what about the incident with your father-in-law’s dentures?”
“What?!” I shouted. “How did you know about that?”
“The pretty brunette who saw you in the car — just happens to be my patient. The minute she described the scenario, I knew it was you.”
“It was nothing. Really nothing.”
“That’s NOT what she thought. Or her friend who was walking with her.”
“It’s just… been very chaotic lately, with me rushing back and forth between home and my father-in-law’s. When I took those tupperwear containers back home from their home, I didn’t realize that his dentures was in one of the containers. So when Sophia called up, her mother screaming in the background, thinking they were lost, the whole situation made me jumpy. I rushed out of the supermarket, where I was buying milk and orange juice, and ran to the car parked outside, just to make sure I still had the dentures in the car. I was so relived to find them in the glove compartment, but because of my anxiety, I dropped the container out of the open passenger’s side door, the container flipped open on the surface of the parking lot, and the dentures rolled under the car. I immediately slid under the car to retrieve them, banging my head on the car door. Then, I sat inside the car again to clean them off using a bottle of water I found in the back seat. I was worrying about his dentures, not the water splashing on the front of my pants.”
“So, are you saying that she and her friend were MISTAKEN about you giving yourself a blowjob with a pair of dentures and THEN coming in your pants. They thought you were a pervert!”
“Of course they were wrong. That’s ridiculous. Sick!”
Dr. Teitelbaum stood, closing my file.
“OK, Neil, everything seems to be the same with you this year. You are in good health. Just one thing….”
Dr. Teitelbaum reached over to grab a bag full of pill samples.
“I am recommending you take these. Every day. Sometimes twice a day.”
As he handed them over to me —
“Happy Birthday,” he said.
Truth Quotient — 56% – 67% depending on the reading
P.S. — Thanks for all the birthday greetings yesterday!