The Doctor/The (new) Doctor *Delete as applicable

Written by my dear friend ‘The Dame’...

Alanis Morissette really was right when she sang the words "Isn't it ironic . . . don't you think". I mean, I have a great respect for her anyway, but perhaps even more so now. The story I am about to tell still feels so surreal but I will do my best to tell it.

I was working last night and happened to call into a regular haunt of mine to get something to eat. A regular haunt with a healthy discount, who wouldn't go? Anyhow, I was examining the menu when I noticed a girl in front of me who I thought was very striking. She turned at the counter and struck up a conversation with me, about my profession and her own profession. Here is where the irony of life meanders in . . . she is a medical student soon to take up post as a Doctor. More ironic than ths, she will work at the hospital The Doctor works at and which I visit quite regularly during the course of my work.

We talked about so much in that 5 minute space of time, with the odd interuption being bellowed at me, permeating the niceness of it all, such as "Do you want salt and vinegar with this?". The conversation moved so quickly and with such ease before she shook my hand and said it was lovely to talk to me. She then left the shop.

I stood there contemplating our conversation and thinking a few things (a) how pretty she was; (b) how easily the conversation flowed and that I couldn't remember what we had actually talked about; and (c) how easy it would have been to offer her my number, running the risk of her slapping me around the kisser for my troubles. My thoughts were interupted by her re-entering the shop and saying to me that she really respected the job I do and that I must be a good person to be able to do it. I must have looked like a deer caught in headlights!

Anyhow, I joined her outside and we began talking again for a period of time whereby I felt like I was suspended in a bubble, not really being able to see out. Without warning she said I should take her number and we should go out for dinner sometime. Aside from being gobsmacked I handed her my phone and she punched her number in without delay. It was at this point I was joined by a work colleague who had come to see if I needed any help because I had been talking for some 20 minutes.

Upon completing my night shift and waking up this afternoon I thought it must be too surreal to be true, but sure enough, there is the number sitting in my phone waiting to be contacted. And of course I will because I don't have anything to lose anymore, it has already been lost and must be regained. How funny life really is.

Bought the new Haruki Murakami novel the other day, which is waiting to be devoured. May well spend some time reading it in London with Tainted. On that note, if anyone gets the opportunity, grab a copy of Mr Murakami's short story collection 'The Elephant Vanishes' (available in most bookshops) and take a few moments to read the story found on page 67 entitled 'On seeing the 100% perfect girl one beautiful April morning'. A truly beautiful piece of writing, and if I am ever able to write that well one of my mission's in life would have been accomplished.

Yours,
-The Dame-