The note said simply “Elaine, Please call me, 336-9797, Jimmie” but it was a lie. It was more than a lie, it was lies. Just lies is all, tons of lies. There were so many lies, ummm, lying there on that note that it almost made Dr. Kazan sick to his stomach. Right down to his very stomach. His guts were aching and his bowels began to stir. Her name wasn’t even Elaine for God’s sake! It was Sheila. He knew better. Sheila had been his secretary for over three weeks now, almost four, and he knew her very, very, very, very well. Really well. She was well known to him. Him being Dr. Kazan. “I’ve got to nip this in the bud, this “Jimmie” must be nipped.” Dr. Kazan said to no one in particular. And neither no one answered either. “I’ll bet his name isn’t even Jimmie, the little pipsqueak” Dr. Kazan said to no one again but no one was holding his countenance until later when things really got more conversationally challenging, then by god, no one would let the little, squat, diminutive, Slavic doctor have it right between the eye sockets, yesirreebob.
An omniscient narrator would tell you at this point why the little Slav was too perturbed to notice he was in the wrong office altogether which explains everything in short order (with the probable exception of the baby chimpanzee sitting at the steno’s desk writing his memoirs in short hand). This is in fact what happened exactly without leaving out any important details:
The doctor was, well, he’s really not a doctor first. That should be said right away. He has no medical training whatsoever except that he was once given a physical examination by a baboon. His pedigree (the doctor’s) contains no P, H or D either so he’s not even a fake doctor. He made that crap all up and rented the office in which he was now pacing like a caged piece of Spanish moss. Back and forth he went as his mind warbled on about Elaine or Sheila or whoever the girl was he hired to watch the phone. “Watch the phone” he said and she surmised that to mean “Answer the phone if it rings” but in fact he required she just watch the phone all day because it never rang. Never. The phone had never rung or rang. The phone suddenly rang. “Hello?” said the doctor who wasn’t a doctor but the phone kept ringing so he picked it up. He stared at it and it just stared silently back not making a sound. Then it spoke. “Hello?”. So astonished was the doctor who wasn’t a doctor that he dropped the phone as if it were a live snake-like, slithering, serpent-like, long thing with no arms or legs. Into the wastebasket went the phone as the doctor stumbled backwards into the baby chimp. The chimp squeaked and jabbed the doctor in the lower left buttocks with a letter opener. The doctor quickly recovered and pulled the phone from the wastebasket and the letter opener from his buttocks simultaneously with a double “Thwock” sound. He held the phone to his ear, half expecting it to bite him in his ear hole. “Yes?” he offered.
“This is Elaine” the phone said as the doctor’s sweat beaded on the back of his calves. “Just a minute,” he said as he herded the calves into the closet and shut the door. “You were saying?” he asked pensively. “I was saying this is Sheil, I mean, I said this is Elaine”. Oh she was clever, this one! the doctor thought feverishly. “Yes? he offered again.
“I have, ummmm, I have decided I can no longer work under the conditions present in your office and I am giving notice.”
“What do you mean “giving notice”? What does that mean? What do you mean? What is your meaning?” He knew perfectly well what she meant and exactly what her meaning was. He got her meaning completely, right down to the lasting meaning part.
“You know what I mean. I’m no fool. You’re the fool.” She let the comment lay there on the desk like a dead fish, right next to the dead muskrat. The silence was palpable. It tasted like old pennies and coffee grounds.
He finally found his voice,
“You can’t quit.” That comment took it’s place next to the dead muskrat too. The doctor began to play with them, switching places around, moving the muskrat by pulling on his tail…
“Stop it!” the phone yelled “I can’t take it anymore! You’re playing with my muskrat again aren’t you?” she hissed figuratively.
“Perhaps I am” said the doctor with pique.
“Okay! I’m coming back! Leave the muskrat alone and I can be there in maybe twenty minutes!” she screamed.
He slowly released the tail
“I recommend you hurry…because at twenty minutes and one second, I’ll start playing again” the last two words had a lilting little sing-song tone to them.
There was a long pause, then,
“I’m getting Chinese, you want something?” she asked.
“Kung Pao chicken would be good… E-laine…” said the doctor who wasn’t a doctor said.
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