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or read his tale…
TRAPPED IN A WINDOWLESS CELL WITH A HALF-DRESSED MAN
Here I am on hold in a windowless room, a room aglow with stark light emanating from indifferent ceiling fixtures.
Next to me is an examination table covered in white butcher paper, an examination table that awaits me.
But I don’t give up so easily.
Instead of climbing atop the table I stand in the center of the room. I become the temporary examiner in the time I have left before the professional examiner enters.
Efficiently arranged implements stare back at me from a cabinet against one wall. Cotton and sterilizing compounds abound. Instructions and warnings are strewn, and on another wall hangs a rack of brochures that hawk or describe certain unguents and procedures that are available to all who dare.
A few minutes ago a medical assistant makes a few notes, asks some questions, and leaves the room after instructing me to remove my shirt and prepare ye for the doctor’s visit.
The room is chilly, so I keep my shirt on. Will they expel me because I dared not enact what seems to me to be a meaningless gesture? Why should I stand half-dressed in a cold, windowless room, long before I really need to be shirtless? I decide I can take my top off when the doctor herself lets me know it is time.
A small rebellion. But what other powers do I have today? What are my options?
I glance in the mirror and see a fully-clothed geezer who looks much older than I feel. Who took over my essence and stuffed me into a large bleached prune?
I sit in a nearby chair and make a few notes. I arise and read every brochure, most of which want me to look younger if I will just follow instructions and invest certain amounts of cash.
Not a bad idea, looking younger. But then, if I substantially alter my appearance will I still be Me? What would happen to Me, the me I’ve lived many decades being?
Most of my life is spent finding a way to get through each day as Me. It’s really all I have, this Me thing. I decide to continue being me.
Wouldn’t want to terrify or alienate my family and loved ones. They only know me as Me, so maybe I’m doing them a favor by being predictable, by being Present.
Thoughts atwirl fill the room as I wait a bit longer.
All I can think about is the punch line. What punch line will I use should the examiner ask me why I did not remove my shirt as instructed?
What about this retort:
“Well, I did not want to be left alone in a windowless room with a half-dressed man.”
That man being, of course, me.
Will the examiner and assistant get the joke, or will they stare past me and get on with their tasks?
What do you think happened next?
The door opens and in walks
© Jim Reed 2018 A.D.
http://www.jimreedbooks.com/podcast