Dr. Sardonic inspires Mr. Mister
I used to have a job. A wonderful job. Wonderful people. Nice work. Smart management. Then it all went to Hell. Sigh. But, through this job, I did meet several people who are still near and dear to me, including Rev. Jack, Mr. Importantness, Her Milfestry's Kept Boy, B.A., the Queen of the Harpies, Al Gato, and Her Milfestry. And, of course Dr. Sardonic.
This company had an annual company meeting at the Chicago Theatre, which was held in the morning hours. The following 12 hours were filled with small amounts of food and large amounts of liquor.
This particular year, we were at a restaurant/club with a swanky bar on the first floor, and a dark, skanky bar and dance floor in the basement. We were dark and skanky. Guess where we were?
At one point, about six hours into the festivities, I came across Dr. Sardonic, sitting on a bench looking a bit dazed. His signature glasses were missing. When I asked him where they were, he waved at the dance floor, and mumbled, "Somewhere over there."
There were probably two dozen over-served people on the dance floor. I started crawling around on the dark floor, looking for his glasses. The Reverend and the Queen saw what I was doing, and joined in. We searched for the better part of fifteen minutes, with our fingers constantly stepped on by hideously expensive footwear. We finally abandoned the search.
I returned to the Doctor, and told him that didn't find the glasses. He shrugged. We sat quietly for a minute. Then he looked down at the bench, picked up the glasses that he had left next to him when he sat down, and put them on without comment.
"You have used up so much karma, it's not even funny." I said.
Several hours later, we worked our way over to a sushi restaurant. We were enjoying our meal, when I noticed that the Doctor was looking a bit strange. He was sitting with his elbow on the table, but his forearm was drooping like the St. Louis Arch. When we felt the arm, it was clear that the Doctor had broken his wrist sometime during the night.
But he refused to go to the hospital. It wasn't until we talked a very attractive woman, who the Doctor was particularly fond of, into accompanying him to the ER, that the Doctor agreed to go. She stayed with him for the entire hospital stay, bless her heart.
I didn't mean for the Doctor to break his arm. And I didn't know that karma worked quite that fast. And I've since learned not to threaten people with karmic retribution if I'm somehow in charge of their well-being. I suffer, too.
And if he doesn't make a new post on his site, soon, I'm going to talk about his storage locker.
This entry was posted
on Thursday, October 13, 2005 at 10:50 PM.
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9:15 AMI already heard this story. I thought you were going to say he dropped them down a trasvestite hooker's pants or something.
Tell me about the storage locker! Was there a transvestite hooker in there?
1:03 AM
"You have used up so much karma, it's not even funny."
I'm still going to use this line someday. Even if it does cause broken bones.
10:53 PM
Fie on you, sysm! So soon as I tell you that my connectivity has been compromised due to an ailing machine, you proceed to sully the good name of Dr. S! Keen to exculpate myself from your calumny, however, I have ventured into the storage crypt of my laboratory to exhume a spare computational device (though I think I hear the vacuum tubes already starting to whiz and pop, and the squirrels aren’t looking too good, either).
To the matter at hand: during the festivity in question, I never said that my glasses were on the dance floor. Rather, after you had keenly noted during a post-dance lull that my visage was bereft of the usual spectacles, you asked me where I last knew I had them on, and it was only in response to this specific query that any mention was made of “the dance floor” (where apparently I had recently crushed a bone). I never used the word "lost", and recall quite clearly being remarkably sanguine about my blurred vision, throbbing limb, and locomotory incapacity. For the record, had I been even remotely ambulatory at the time, I would most certainly have put a halt to the valiant if futile search on the part of the Queen of the Harpies, the good Rev., and yourself. Of course, even if I had been able to stand up, I still wouldn't have been able to locate you, because, as you well know, I had momentarily misplaced my glasses.
Well then, now that I've clarified this matter, I should ask that you kindly return my hijacked karma. To show just how charitable a chap Dr. S can be, I'll waive the usual karma restocking fee.
5:31 AM
yeah. that night was unbelievable. Poor Doctor. I went through a whole range of emotions when I saw him in a cast the following monday: I was shocked, I laughed, I felt terrible for him, I got a little sleepy, I laughed again...
Also that same night, I had both my cans grabbed, unwarned and unsolicited, by the new and soon-to-be-notorious IT Director. fiesta! Later I heard he spent the night in his car on some Chicago street. I went through a whole range of emotions...
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