I can’t play for my fucked-up tennis team because of my fucked-up knee.

Just when I was going to release the perfect whine to earn some free points with the Bear (one of the secrets to a long marriage is sublte and mutual manipulation) that got fucked up too.

Walking out of the doctor’s office after my platlette shots, the knees were starting to feel the pinch of having 2 figurative sacks of potatoes stapled to each MCL.

The Bear was sitting in the waiting room.  Her face filled with “concern” — that shit is usually reserved for sick children or injured puppies.  Cue the Eminem music in my head:

“I’ve got one shot
do not miss this opportunity”
to get 12 hours of sympathy…

Later her patience will expire, and I will have to get up and pour my own damn beer.  I sat down next to her.  I reached down to rub both knees and really sell it.  A rub, a wince and a little whine could get me out of housework for an entire weekend.

Just then the front office person walked around the desk and into the waiting room. She had on tight white paints in that skinny jean style these douchebag millennials love.  She’s early 20-something, fit.

The Bear catches me looking, and we both notice something.  She has a prostethic leg. I can tell the Bear sees it too.

She moves back across the office.  I take my hands off my knees and sit up straight. Subtle manipulation gone.  I’m going to be making my own sandwhich and fetching my own beers tonight…

And I’ll be cleaning both bathrooms this weekend.

Thanks a lot doc.  Way to hire a staff that makes me look like a real pussy.

NOTE:  I thought carefully before writing this particular bullshit.  I didn’t want to draw unwanted attention, but when I checked out the doc’s website, Darrian included her story.  You should read it.

Follow this link and scroll down past the doctor boasting about all his accomplishments (yeah, yeah, great you are from Michigan) and get to the good stuff at the bottom.

https://rejuvmedicalsw.com/jonathan-tait-d-o/