Friday, September 07, 2007

Do I look like a Professor?

I'm thinking of taking the surgery out on the road, to perform under a red and white striped awning with a proper little replica prescenium theatre and some wooden puppets. And a swozzle. (I think that's what they're called, you know the things that make your voice go all "swozzley"...)

Then I could re-enact last night's little closing scene for you.

In they came . Lets call them, for the sake of argument (and yes I really do mean argument here), Mr Punch and his lovely wife Judy.

I should have guessed there was trouble brewing,. After all Mr P was late for his appointment. A mind boggling twenty four hours late for it! Now even my regulars don't expect me to be running that far behind, and Mr P isn't one of them anyway so his tardiness was quite spectacular. Still the receptionists were quite insistent that he really needed to be seen (a bad sign in itself) and so I invited him in.

Now in hindsight, Judy frog-marching him in, he with pained expression, she holding his right arm pinioned half way up his back, might also have been a bit of a "non-verbal cue" as we are trained to call them.

As they sat down I opened with a non-comm ital and cheery "What can we do for you?"

What follows requires the above puppets and swozzle to recount...

Judy-- He's been a very bad Mr Punch. He's not very well at all and he won't come to see you so I've had to bring him....

Mr P (swozzle)-- Oh no I'm not!

Judy-- Don't listen to him, I know all about it. He's been off at the naughty pub drinking lots of naughty beer.

Mr P (swozzle)-- Oh no I haven't!

Judy-- Oooh! He has too, and I need you to tell him to stop it.

Mr P (swozzle)-- Oh no you don't!

And so we went on. Round and round in ever decreasing circles. In the end it became apparent that their relationship (if such it can be called) was a relentless cycle of recrimination and reprisal and had been so for years. She thinks he drinks too much. He thinks she doesn't drink enough. Both may have a point. What they really seemed to need was a referee. I even had the temerity to suggest they see a counsellor about their relationship. As they were leaving, he turned to offer a parting remark.

"We tried that three years ago. they suggested we divorce!"

Now, at the risk of coining a phrase here...

Dr J (swozzle)-- That's the way to do it!


orchidea said...

Look on the bright side - if you'd seen Mr P and Judy first thing, you'd have probably stuck your head in the microwave before midday. ;-)

Nostrumdammit said...

Did you prescribe a truncheon?

I'd have thought that response would have been entirely in keeping with the scenario.
I realise belatedly that it seems as though I'm condoning domestic violence. I'm not. No man should ever strike a woman under any circumstances at all.

Perhaps the truncheon is too much in character with the Punch and Judy scenario, so you would need to arm the unfortunate chappy with some other way of responding to his harpy of a wife.

Now it seems as though I'm condoning excessive alcohol consumption but I'm not, even though the odd port or two has crossed my lips in response to unnerving situations.

Incidentally, I note in your last comments section that you yourself appear partial to the Bacchanalian blessing post challenge. Wonderful stuff, but I do feel that any whisky be it a single Speyside, Irish or Bourbon is actually at it's best with just a teaspoon of fresh spring water rather than ice - releases so much more flavour you know. Unless of course you are purely aiming for anaesthesia in which case some cheap vodka and Tesco tonic in a half pint glass is my favourite. You would need to take care not to have any lemon slices though. Damn near choked to death one particularly awful evening back in March last after a dreadful day confined to a counter in outer suburbia.

Maybe they should have divorced and spared us all.

Doctor Jest said...

orchidea-- how right you are. There seems to be somekind of karmic law that stores up the really rubbish consultations for the end of the day though. Or maybe it's just me getting tired and jaded....

Nostrum-- after a few grand rounds you develop that instinct that allows you to stop digging jsut ahead of the hole swallowing you up completely ;-)

As for the vodka, I'm afraid it's got to be Stolli, or better yet Moskovskaya. And don't bother with the tonic or lemon, jusy pour and drink straight, but always keep in the freezer.

I'm beginning to think I might be a bit high maintenance...