Tuesday, January 15, 2019

Not The Answers He Was Expecting, I Guess

A good friend of mine called me this afternoon to relate a funny conversation he’d just had with our mutual dermatologist, a generally unflappable, slow-talking gent from Oklahoma.  For background, this guy is my usual geocaching companion, and although his hair is almost entirely grey and, as he puts it, he can eat off the seniors’ menu at Applebee’s, he’s not one to shy away from a physical challenge.

Which leads us to this afternoon, and him having the following exchange with the doctor during his regular annual checkup.

Doc: “What happened to your knees?”
Friend: “Oh, nothing major—those are just scrapes from climbing a tree.”

Doc: *prolonged pause*

Doc: “And WHY were you climbing a tree?”
Friend: “There was a geocache in it, hanging fifteen or twenty feet up.  Only way to get to it.”

Doc: *another pause*

Doc: “Well, did you get it at least?”
Friend: “Yep.”

Seems he then went on to tell the doc (who knows that we are friends) that I was waiting safely at the bottom of the tree while this was going on.  I asked if he happened to mention that later the same afternoon I crawled fifty feet each way through a dark concrete drainpipe to grab another one for us, but no. Sigh.  I carry my own weight on this team, thankyouverymuch.  Guess I’ll have to clear my name the next time I’m in for a checkup!










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