"Two Little Stories"

One, that should not have happened but did, the other, that should have happened but didn’t.  I like to present the entire spectrum on Just Thinking.

First…

The One That Should Not Have Happened But Did:

This one comes straight out of “Bizarro Land.”  I’m telling you, it is completely “Doo-doo-doo-doo.”  (The Twilight Zone theme song.)

The specifics are pedestrian.  My “Appointments Book” – if you ever need some blank paper to write something down on, barring a scattering of doctors’ appointments, my “Appointments Book” is entirely at your disposal – anyway, my “Appointments Book” indicated I had a three-thirty appointment with my bodywork specialist, who I call “The Horse Doctor” because three days a week he does bodywork on horses. Although with the “50-50” clientele, the appellation could have easily gone the other way.

I arrive in plenty of time for my three-thirty appointment.  I press the button in the Waiting Room to inform him that I’m there.  A few minutes later, the “Horse Doctor” comes out with this indecipherable look on his face – which will momentarily be decipherable – and he says,

“Your appointment was for two-thirty.”

Boring, but what do you want from a set-up?  Now…

It’s the following day.  I call up Nina to make an appointment for a (therapeutic) pedicure.  Nina says, “Come today at two-thirty” and I say, “Fine.” 

And then Nina adds this:

“Remember:  Not three-thirty.  Two-thirty.”

Did you hear what she said?  “Not three-thirty, two-thirty”?  As if

she is aware of the mistake I made yesterday?

Which, since Nina and the “Horse Doctor” are unaware of each others’ existence, could not possibly be the case!

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And now…

The One That Should Have Happened But Didn’t:

I have an appointment with an “Ear, Nose And Throat” doctor – Are you getting the nuance of my social schedule? – seeking treatment a congested ear problem.  I already wrote about this cheery encounter, but I left out the part about this thing I said, because it never said it, because, as generally happens on these occasions, it did not occur to me until later.

As you may or may not recall, the ENT doctor had kept me cooling my heels in his Waiting Area for fifty-five minutes.  I was incensed by this screaming inconsiderateness, but was determined not to show it.  I apparently showed it anyway, my agitation so severe at one point, the concerned sawbones was required to place a comforting hand on my forearm to settle me down.  My appointment ended, and I went home. 

With this entirely unsaid, because I had not thought of it yet:

“I want to tell you something, “ I would deliberately begin if I had said it, but I didn’t because I hadn’t.  “When I was twenty-two years old, I lived in London.  And one night, I noticed they were setting up barricades across the street from the arcade I habitually frequented hoping to win ‘subway money’ back to my apartment.

It turns out that, that night, Queen Elizabeth was coming to a “Royal Gala Premiere” at the movie theater across the street, and spectators were assembling to see Her Majesty arrive. 

Interested in getting a glimpse of Her Royal Highness close up, I dutifully traversed the thoroughfare, and added myself to the curious masses behind the barricades.

I waited there for thirty minutes, and nothing happened.  Unwilling to wait longer than half an hour, I summarily abandoned the barricades, and went home.

Just so you’ll know – and can brag to whomever you think might be impressed by this – today, I waited  longer for you than I did for the exalted Queen of England!”

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Consider the mutually exclusive alternatives: 

In fiction, as opposed to everyday existence, you can rewrite reality, making an “I only thought of it afterwards” rejoinder seem like it occurred precisely “in the moment.”  Everyday existence offers the utterly inexplicable, which, if found in fiction, would come off sounding screamingly contrived. 

Overall, I substantially prefer the fiction. 

Not to read and to watch. 

But to live.  
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Today marks Dr. M's and my 32nd anniversary.  I shall direct my feelings of love, appreciation and utter amazement to the appropriate venue, as that venue does not read this blog, for fear of finding content she would not approve of.

I just thought I'd like to have it on the record.