What a Day

     I did not have a good feeling about this place as I fished my Medicare and Medicare supplement cards out of my wallet.  As much as I hated to, I had to ask the surly receptionist which cards I had just given her.  My age has overtaken my eyes.  With glasses I can see here or there, but never here when I need to or there when I want to.  With her grunt, I assumed that I had given her the right ones.  She handed them back with a clip board just barely able to hold the paperwork I needed to fill out.  The parking lot was full, but when I went to find a seat, I found that I was the only one in the receptionist area.  Even then, there was not a good seat.  The carpet was covered with dirt, the seats were torn and tattered, cobwebs were everywhere.  And some of the seats were covered with rat droppings.  Since I am afraid of spiders and don't like rat dookey, I just decided to sit on the floor.  Good thing I am not afraid of earthworms and slugs.
     As I returned the paperwork, I asked Stoneface how long for me to be called back. 
     "Ten minutes!" she slurred.
      "Good", I thought, that will give me enough time to check on the car.  As I stepped out, I saw that the parking lot was underwater and mud had washed down from the hill overlooking the office.
     "That's just great!", I muttered under my breath.  I jumped across the puddles of mud and water and made my way to the car.  I let up the windows, knowing that I would have a mess to clean up later.  I had just enough time to get back to the office, but something kept worrying me about this appointment.  Why was I here?  Did I hurt myself, was I sick or was I just trying out my Medicare cards.  I think I have a tooth trying to abscess, but I ain't sure.  When I get back to the office, no one is there, not even the disgruntled old receptionist, so I go sit on the dirt floor and wait.
     I was almost asleep, when a few dozen black kids came into the room and gathered into a formation.  right on cue, just as they get into position, music comes out from nowhere and they begin to dance.  Slowly at first, gaining in momentum and intensity.  Not too bad for kids.  They break off into smaller groups and begin to wander off.  The office is soon deserted again and I eased over to the side of the room.  There was a collection of old Coca Cola barrels resting on a pallet.  The logo was embossed onto the side of the rusted metal barrels.  As I am admiring them, an old guy walks over and joins me in admiring them. 
     "Reckon how much they're worth?"
     "Five hundred dollars each, I guess" he answered.
     "Mr. Sims" called Stoneface, "Come on back!"
     As I stepped through the door, it looked as if I were entering into a petting zoo.  Now I knew where all the people from the cars were.  There was sawdust on the floor, goats, sheep, chickens and hogs were wandering around unattended.  You really needed to pay attention where you stepped.  The smell was kinda strong also.  The lady escorting me stepped over to the fruit bar, grabbed a pair of scissors and cut a section of melon.  I could not help but hope that she didn't cut some low hanging nuts off my tree.  Walking down the wide hall, I had to sidestep an old man on a torture machine that worked his shoulders, arms and legs.  He was tied to it so he couldn't get off until his time was up.  Some stupid grin was on his face, didn't know if he was happy or was going to need a cleanup at the end.
     "Here you are", said Stoneface, "Lay down on the floor and put your neck here."
     "How am I supposed to do that?"  The neck rest was a foot and a half above the floor.
     "Just try."
      As I lay down and was trying to get my head on the "rest", I felt a sharp pain on my tailbone.  "What the hell?"  I jumped in pain and they slid a two by four under my back and angled me up so that my neck fit perfectly.  "What kind of a flim-flam operation is this?"  You can keep your Medicare if I have to go through shit like this to use it.  I still don't know what is wrong, even after staying on that torture rack for over an hour.  I did leave there with a crick in my neck, a sore back and barely able to walk.  As I struggled through the reception area, Stoneface said, "See you next week."
     "No hell you won't!" I muttered to myself.
  .............to be continued.