Doctor Day Two

I saw my PCP (primary care doctor) yesterday. I visit my PCP twice a year for a checkup, and she tells me what doctors, if any, I should see next. This trip, I had to make an appointment with a gastroenterologist. Oy. Other that that, the visit went as I expected. She reviewed lab results with me. My good cholesterol is too low. My bad cholesterol, triglycerides, and blood sugar are too high. In other words, they’re the same as they always are.

I’ve noticed that the older I get, the more often the young ladies working at the medical offices seem to want to joke around with me. I have a theory about why this might be happening. I think that as I get older, young ladies see me less as someone who could take their friendliness the wrong way, and more as someone who is too old to possibly be interested in them “that way.” And so they feel it’s safe to be friendly. They’re wrong, of course. If there were thought-bubbles above our heads, hers would say, “Oh, a nice older gentleman who reminds me of my paw-paw — I’ll be nice to him.” Whereas mine would say, “She’s into me!” It’s just how guys’ brains work. It’s a Y-chromosome thing.

This morning I went to Wally World to pick up an Rx at the pharmacy. Then,  as I was almost there anyway, I decided to visit the deli and buy a single plate: an order of wings and a side. There was a genuinely hot young woman standing at the deli counter. There was no one behind the counter, so we stood silently for a minute, and finally I said to her, “I assume someone is working here?”  Instantly I had a chat session going. She said she was waiting to order a single plate: wings and a side.

“That’s what I’m getting,” I told her and we started discussing which wings we liked, which chips (“Salt and vinegar chips make me nauseous,” she said, and I replied “I think they’re addicting.”) Finally, the deli employee returned to handle our food orders, and the chat ended — thankfully for me. At my age, that’s the most excitement I can handle.