Tee-d Off...

A doctor's office is the last place I want to be
Most poor souls in the waiting room look like
death warmed over. I'm this side of feeling
like a bowl of leftovers...stuffy, aching sinuses.


The nurse leads me into the patient room,
which has to be as cold as Antarctica;
something resembling a paper bag is given
to me to put on.
I never know how the contraption goes.
Forwards, backwards...?
It's so stuck together that the Hulk wouldn't be able
to separate it.
I thought I'd put my feet through the arm holes,
just to be funny.

The magazine selection stinks:
Golf--I don't play,
Popular Mechanics--that's a good one;
Parents--I'm past that;
AARP--I refuse to admit I'm getting older.
I finally settle on Naples Illustrated,
and find my picture on page 110 which
was taken at an art opening at the von Liebig.

After milking the magazine for a good 45 minutes
past my appointment time, the doc finally comes in.
He asks me what the problem is.
"The world's not in too good a shape,
kids are out of work, and I was getting sick
of waiting in this igloo..."
My behind is stuck to the table.
He chuckles.
I know who to call to book a clown
for a birthday party...

After about 7 minutes, I'm shedding
Omar the Tent Maker's paper dress, and
heading home.
I knew it was allergies all along and
not a cold...
Maybe I should take up golf--
I can find a new doctor whose office is next door
to a putting green.
He can call me off the course when he's ready...