Sunday, June 12, 2005

6:52 PM

Sitting in my chair, bouncing my left knee. I check my watch. It's almost time to leave.

Stacey called me on Thursday after Mitch cancelled. She was almost frantic; apparently he'd not only cancelled but had been acting extra-wacky all day. Greg, I... what am I going to do? He can't go on like this, he can't, he's sick....

Et cetera, et cetera. So first I had to remind her that I believed her, that I was still going to take a look at him. And then I asked her why he kept cancelling, and she ignored the question, and she said something about I'll get him there, I'll call you tomorrow.

So then she called me back Friday with news of reservations at this restaurant and this idea we could all meet there, and she could just introduce me to Mike first.... And I promised her I'd be there. Which left me all weekend to stew on this.

I check my watch again.

I wish I could ditch this whole thing, but I can't, I'm in it now, and I know I won't be able to rest until I figure out the answer to this puzzle, even though I'm pretty sure I'm not going to like the answer. It's been bugging me all weekend; I hardly slept at all last night. But I got a bit of a nap in this afternoon; between that, a shower, and a cup of coffee, I guess I'm as ready as I'm going to get.

I don't know what I'm going to find when I meet Stacey and this guy. But I'm tired of messing around. I've called in a consult. If I can't persuade this guy to come in, and if Stacey can't.... I reach in my pocket, bring out a bottle, and stare at the label. It's not Vicodin. It's chloral hydrate. Perhaps Dr. Mickey Finn will succeed where Stacey has failed.


Blogger Sanlin said...

Hey, Doc. :-) I'm just about to take off on one of my several day excursions. I may be hunting some wild and wooly *crabs,* this time. (The kind you *eat,* wise guy! LOL) Dungeness crabs, to be exact, and maybe some oysters. (*Not* for use as an aphrodisiac... *shudders at thought of raw oysters*) What can I say... I come from a country that has the *Queen* on its money. So, obviously, according to you, I'm *British,* like Chase. ;-) LOL And everyone knows that every other British slang term or food item sounds racy and has a *different* meaning on this side of the pond... Like 'bangers,' 'Spotted Dick' and a 'pack of fags.' ;-) *whew* It's so *hot* in here, today... *fans self* ;-)

Now, where was I? Oh, yes. *Catching crabs.* ;-) The *edible* variety. Have to watch the pincers on those little blighters... Otherwise, one quick *snip... snip* and it's Barb's... er... *Bob's* Your Uncle. ;-)

Good luck *bagging* your own quarry. The ever-elusive Moby... Maury... Michael... ummm.... Sick Dude. What's His Face. And 'happy hunting' when it comes to your latest disease du jour... I hope it's something sufficiently exotic to warrant your time and effort. I wouldn't want you to waste the really *good* drugs on anything too *boring.* ;-) Have you been tempted to use them on Stacey, instead, and give Martin... Mathew... Maurice a free 'sex change operation' while she's 'out'? Hey, I'm just *saying...* ;-)


June 22, 2005 10:57 PM  

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