Dolores' Doctor's Office Visit

 

What do you call a doctor who hates the sight of blood? A psychiatrist. That’s what George Matheson was, a psychiatrist. One afternoon, in 2008, he got a phone call. It was 2:30 in the afternoon. No, it was 2:35. Wait. Let me check my notes. Oh, heck, never mind. He picked up the phone. It was a peach colored phone. But you don’t need to know that, do you?

“Dolores!” Dr. Matheson exclaimed. “This is a big surprise. How are you?”

“Free at last, George.”

“Free, Dolores?”

“Can we get together?”

”Business or pleasure, Dolores?” he said, after a pause. He remembered her red hair. Her gorgeous figure. The feel of her.

“Pleasure, George. Definitely, pleasure.”

”Come right down then. I’ll see if I can conveyor belt the rest of my patients.”

Dolores opened the door to the office. It struck something. She put her head in the room and saw a man clutching his forehead. There was a book on the floor.

“I was trying to pick that up,” he said.

“Oh, sorry.”

He looked at her. He seemed dazed. He was tall, gaunt, like a tall gaunt guy. With black hair. He was slightly chinese, or a bookkeeper.

“Are you hurt,” she said.

“No,” he replied, as he picked up the book. “No, thank you. “ In a graceless manner, he pulled the door open so she could enter.

“What are you doing in Philadelphia, Dolores?” George said, as he stood up to hug her. He wanted to get a full body hug, full frontal, pressing, contoured. As a human being, he wasn't much. Thin, ardent, ardent yellow hair, receding, his ardentness.

“I left my husband,” she said, as he watched her light, glossy orange lips, that used to be his, his, his.

“So, you’re married?”

”Not for long.”

”Let’s go to dinner.”

“I’m so glad you asked.”

Dr. Matheson was still in love with Dolores. After four years, there still wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her.

“Doctor,” Tom said, when he called, a few days later. “I won’t be coming in for any more sessions.”

“Do you think you are doing the right thing?”

“Yes, doctor. The depression is gone. I understand now it was natural. I guess I was just feeling lonely. You see, doctor, the most unbelievable thing happened. Curious how you really helped me.”

“I did?”

“Yes, sure. Absolutely. If I hadn’t come to you none of this would have ever happened.”

“Something happened?”

“Yes, I met this woman.”

“Ah,” he sighed, amused. “You are in love?”

“In love?” Tom paused. “I don’t know--“

“You’re in love,” Dr. Matheson said. “I can tell.”

“Well"

“But wait a minute. Why? I mean, how did I help you? We only had a few brief sessions.”

“I met her that day in your office.”

“My office?” Matheson said, stunned.

“One of your patients.”

“My patients? Who?”

“Dolores Ketchmire.”

“Dolores?” He stood up in alarm.

“Is something wrong, doctor? Is it because she’s a patient?”

“She’s not a patient.”

“But I thought"“

“No, Thomas, “ he said, as he slumped down in his chair. “She’s not a patient. Just a friend. You’re lucky in that respect. She’s quite sane.”

“I know.”

“Well, thanks for stopping by, Thomas. Good luck.”

Reviews

[Woody]

this is funny. your humourous touch is very pleasant indeed. I like your asides to the reader.