See I had this problem and finally I just gave up and went to see my Doctor.
I knew right away when I arrived that something was up. The parking lot was full of vans with reporters standing around and lots of screaming teenagers running around and fainting every now and then. Hmmm, I thought, must be a celebrity in town.
The waiting room was changed, too. All the chairs were arranged in a semicircle and he receptionist was in the middle.
“Grab a seat,” she said, “we’re in a self criticizing session here. What can you add?”
“Well,” I said, “I got this problem and I want to see the Doctor..”
“What!” a fat lady of twenty something exclaimed, “we’re practicing group think. How dare you not confess!”
“Uh, it’s kinda personal… if you don’t mind,” I said begging off.
“Hmmmmph.” She opined.
“I really want to see the Doctor,” I appealed to the receptionist.
“Oh very well,” she snapped. “Fill out this form so I can pull your records.”
So I did and she did, and then I noticed this picture on the wall..
“That isn’t Doctor Jones,” I said, thinking that the image was vaguely familiar.
“Of course not. That’s the new Doctor,” she added straightening the picture, “that’s Doctor Audacity.”
And then she whisked me back to the examination room.
A lady with a “Nurse Rice” name tag appeared.
“I’m here to prep you,” she said.
“Prep me?”
“Of course. No one sees the Doctor until they’ve been prepped. What is your problem?”
“Uh, it’s kinda personal,” I said.
“Nonsense, this is a medical facility. Speak up.
“Well,” I said, “see this is kinda about some problem that only happened rarely in the past, but it’s happening much more in the near past..”
“Please be specific,” she demanded.
“You know, “ I said.. “It’s kind hard… no it’s not hard… that’s the problem … never mind.. it’s about E D.”
“Ed?”
“Yeah, that’s the name they use…. E D.”
“Well,” she said.
Just then the Doctor came in, or maybe I should say the group came in.
“Is this the wounded warrior?” he asked as the electronic flashes went off from the ten or so cameras.”
“Warrior? No, this is about E D…”
“Is your friend Ed dead?” he asked. “I can feel your pain as clearly as any Clinton could…”
“Uh, there isn’t any pain,” I said, “but yeah E D is kinda dead.”
“I knew it,” he said. “Now tell the group where you were injured in the unjust war that McCain supports.”
By now I was confused. “ Uh, what war?”
“The unjust war.”
“Never heard of that war. I was in the Cold War.”
“Cold War?”
“Yeah. You know the one with the Soviet…”
“You mean the one in which we refused to recognize the superiority of the Soviet’s system??”
“Look, “ I said, “no need to argue…can you just fix my E D?
“E D??”
“Yeah.”
“Not Ed?”
“No. E D.”
“I’m not that kind of Doctor.”
“But,” I said, “You’re the Blessed one sent to us, can’t you raise the dead??”
“No,” he said taking off his white coat as Nurse Rice ushered the reporters out.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” he said.
I was getting desperate now. “What kind of Doctor are you??
“I am the Doctor of Hope!” he exclaimed as he went for the door.
“Can’t raise the dead??” I cried.
“No,” Nurse Rice broke in. “Doctor Audacity is a Doctor of Hope!”
“And,” she added. “You are a big disappointment. I bet you don’t know anything about Foreign Affairs.”
That’s when it hit me. The solution.
“Never had one,” I said. “But could you get Doctor Audacity to introduce me to Paris Hilton? That would sure raise my Hope.”
"You had your chance and you blew it!" She said tossing my records in the trash can.
"No...no," I said, "I was thinking of the reverse..."
"Silly boy," she said. "I bet you aren't even a Democrat."
