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The Lowlight of my Day
April 18th, 2006 / #complaints, #observations
I was never permitted to go to the big peoples’ doctor. I would always be sitting there, in a room full of little snot-nosed children whining to their mothers, waiting for my overly friendly pediatrician to call me in so that he could tell me how bad my acne was getting.
So today, I walked in because I had to get some paperwork filled out before I could go to college. I was the only person who could grow facial hair in the entire room. None of the secretaries could do it (I hope), none of the mothers who had to take the day off from work to bring their little bundles of joy in for medical care could do it (I hope), and none of the kids in the waiting room could do it, either.
So, while I was waiting for my appointment to get scheduled, I took a seat to check out the reading material. And you know what I hate?
Every doctor’s office in the known universe has a copy of Highlights Magazine. And every copy of Highlights Magazine has that sweet hidden picture puzzle where you have to find a baseball, canoe, and umbrella in a seemingly normal landscape. But the thing that gets me is that in every copy of this magazine in every doctor’s office across America, some stupid kid went and found them all for you. There you are, sitting there ready to play paper detective, and that fat kid with the mumps went and stole your glory.
Go spit, fat kid with the mumps. I’m sick of you.
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The Surfer by Tony Kamel
I’m not fat.
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