Scammers, My Cardio Visit and Gerbil Soup
by Bella Rum
I received this in the mail today.
They would like to give me an “Android Touchpad Tablet Computer.” My favorite part is “Because previous attempts to reach you have been unsuccessful…” That’s right, guys – thanks to Caller I.D. The little Google logo at the bottom is a nice touch. When do these evildoers have time to sleep?
I remembered today that I still hadn’t deleted the corrupt account number on audible.com, and I have an automatic pay on that. H handled the HVAC company that maintains our A/C, TurboTax and SiriusXM. Automatic pay is convenient, but you have to pay attention. Audible was the only one I missed, but no harm, no foul.
Enough of that boring stuff. I have other boring stuff to tell you.
I had an appointment today with my cardiologist. It went better than I expected. It was freezing in that place. I meant to ask the doctor if he paid the bill. It was so cold that the nurse didn’t make me remove my top for the EKG, “Just open your shirt.” Fine with me. But as I was lying there, I realized that I’d worn the pants that I have to roll over at the waste because they’re a little long. For some reason, I didn’t want her to see that. You know she’s seen worse. I was wearing a good bra, though.
I’m going to be honest here and tell you that I can’t remember if I’ve every told you about my cardio guy’s wardrobe. I searched a little but I’m not wasting anymore time. So if I’ve told you this before, feel free to skip.
My doctor is a strange bird. He looks like a 1950’s Sears Roebuck catalog ad. He pays serious attention to his wardrobe, and has quite the theme going on: argyle sweater vests, always (today it was bright yellow), coordinating striped shirt, always, matching bow tie, always and tasselled loafers, always. His loafers are very expensive, and they always look like it’s the first time they’ve been worn. I’d love to see his closet.
He cannot tolerate eye contact. He enters the room, shakes hands and sits with his back to me at the computer and asks questions over his shoulder. Honestly, I can’t believe he shakes hands. I’m certain he washes as soon as he leaves the room – all over. I just don’t know about him.
The only negative thing he said was, “Um (clears throat), your weight keeps creeping up.” Then he talked to me more than he ever has – not much but more. He suggested an app: My Fitness Pal. I bet you already know about it, don’t you? I’m always the last to know. Several times he said, “Just put it on your smart phone, and you’ll have it with you everywhere you go. I think you will find it helpful.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I have a grandma phone. But we are getting smart phones as soon as we have time to go over to the Verizon store. We’ve been saying that for awhile, but we’ve really been planning to do it ever since our contract was up.
He said that I could enter everything that I eat, and it will give me nutritional info. Like calories! The last thing he said, ” See you in six months, hopefully less of you.” Okay. Not too bad. I deserved it, and he is socially awkward, so I gave him a break. And of course, I’ve never said anything socially awkward.
And now it’s time for another conversation with H.
I’m watching Martha Stewart who is telling me how to make sorrel soup. She’s just finishing it off with a little sprinkle on top when H walks through the room.
H ~ Did she just say gerbil soup?
Me ~ What??
H~ Gerbil soup? She just said gerbil soup. Didn’t you hear her?
Me ~ What? No, she’s making sorrel soup.
H ~ I swear. Rewind.
Martha ~ … and I like a little chervil on my soup and a dollop of crème fraîche.
Me ~ chervil on her soup, NOT gerbil in her soup!
H ~ Sounded like gerbil to me.
Methinks someone could benefit from a hearing aid.