“The crickets are out.  I hear them.”

 

“That’s not crickets, you idiot, that is your toe clicking.  Do you realize that every step you take, every move you make, your toe clicks?”

 

“Really?  I keep wondering why crickets are following me, watching me, clicking with every breath I take.”

 

“Paranoia is a disease, Wolf.  You really should see a doctor.”

 

“I haven’t been to the doctor in over 6 months. I don’t like my doctor.  Why did my old doc have to retire?”

 

“One appointment with your new doctor, and you already know you don’t like her?”

 

“She is too intrusive, invasive and suggested that I need tests, to determine if I have issues.”

 

“What’s wrong with that?”

 

“If I don’t have issues, why do I want to have tests?  I need to find a doctor who understands me and realizes that as one ages, tests will only reveal that I have certain bodily functions that are shot.  I already know that.  I don’t want to have tests that will suggest that I have surgery, on my clicking toe, or that I need to lay off the donuts, if I want to live to be 110.”

 

“She is offering ways to live a longer life.   Everybody wants to live to a ripe, old age.”

 

“I can’t get much riper.  And who wants to live to be 110?  I just want to enjoy each day, laugh, have a few drinks and eat donuts, without tests.”

 

“Have you decided what you are going to do?”

 

“Yeah.  Live my life, without tests.  And find a new doctor, one who appreciates my philosophy, and encourages drinking red wine.”

 

“The truth is you are looking for a doctor who likes red wine.”

 

“Did I mention?  My new doctor is no more than 30 years old, is the picture of health, and likes white wine?”

 

“So that’s it. It’s about the choice of wine, isn’t it?”

 

“You might have something there.  I would never eat a donut with white wine.  And if she had really delved into my donut eating, she would have known, that when I drink red wine, to hell with the donuts.”

 

“What about pie, Wolf?  I heard you brought a pie to work today.”

 

“Don’t ask me about that pie, Minnie.  I waited all morning, to eat that pie, tore open the box and it was one of those uncooked pies.   Thankfully, Candis took it home to bake it.  And tonight, I opened a bottle of red wine, and said to hell with the pie.  You see, red wine is a life saver.  It keeps me away from donuts and pies.  At this rate, I might live to be 11o.”

 

“But you said you don’t want to live to be 110.”

 

“Wait a minute.  I might need some tests.  I may need meds.  Did I hear that Pennsylvania is considering medical marijuana?”

 

 

Wolf

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