Why, I'm a doctor!
In the middle of a flight from London to Chicago, I started thinking maybe I should've gone to medical school. We were in the middle of watching the new Herbie movie, with Lindsay Lohan. It was the part where she was she was all depressed because she lost in a drag race to Matt Dillon's character, who was a Nextel Cup champion on the NASCAR circuit. Then, all of a sudden, the flight attendent said over the intercom, "If there is any passenger who is a medical doctor, could you please alert a flight attendent?" Apparently someone got sick on the plane, though I never found out what the condition was. I'm pretty sure it didn't involve vomiting, because on an 8 hour flight we would've found out eventually. Anyways, some guy got up and started talking to the flight attendant, and even though I never heard what he said, I could tell he was the doctor, and he was gonna heal some shit. And I instantly had this respect for him, like if I was a chick I'd totally want to bone him. But if I were him, I would be all dramatic, get up from my chair and, in a booming baritone, yell out "Why, I'm a doctor! What seems to be the problem?" Then people around me would be like, "You're supposed to tell a flight attendant, not everybody on the plane, showoff. We're trying to watch Herbie:Fully Loaded here." At this point my fantasy world falls apart, because I would trudge up to the front of the plane to administer care to the melodramatic a-hole who probably has, like, a broken arm or something stupid. Just wrap a towel around it, genius! I guess I forgot to travel with my instant bone repair kit! Fucking moron. And I would totally miss the end of Herbie, and never know whether Lindsay Lohan wins her first NASCAR race. I mean, it really had me quite on edge whether she could possibly win the final race of the movie as a plucky woman in a magic car that nobody gave a chance.
Posted by mill1991 at September 18, 2005 10:05 PM
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