Waiting rooms vs. Bars

I had a doctor appointment this week.  As I was scoping out the waiting room for a seat away from the crowd, it hit me: waiting rooms and bars have a lot in common.

  • You have to show ID or it’s no admittance, no matter how long you stood in line or how old you look
  • You have to wait quite a while  before the person at the bar/counter will help you
  • You are crowded in with people that you normally wouldn’t get too close to-you never know what you might catch from those people
  • There are “interesting” stains on the floor – is that blood? You’re better off not thinking about it too much
  • That one couple yelling so that EVERYONE can hear their opinions on Game of Thrones/Stanley Cup Playoffs/their current medical conditions/whatever
  • No outside food or drinks
  • Inadequate bathroom facilities for the number of people present
  • The smell – not the same smell, obviously, but a distinctive one for each. For bars, it’s sweat, too much perfume, and the ghosts of a thousand spilled beers. For waiting rooms, it’s sweat, too much ointment, and lots and lots of carpet freshener (seriously, what is that stain on the floor?)

I entertained myself with this list for a few minutes, then opened up the book I had brought with me. As I sat there trying to read, I realized I had not taken into account a big difference-the one thing that makes bars so much better than waiting rooms. In bars, the TVs on the walls are muted.   Paradise!

Adventures with crazy dogs

Z and G

Took the dogs for a walk. When we got back, I opened the truck to get the garage door opener.

Z hates car rides, so as soon as I opened the truck door she started trying to back out of her harness and get far away from the vehicle. I had to drop the leash so she wouldn’t end up running through the neighborhood naked.


Z trying to escape

While I was paying attention to Z, G-who obviously likes to go for rides-took the opportunity to jump in the truck. I could not convince him to get out.

Meanwhile, Z was in the front yard enjoying her freedom. I shut the door to the truck, got Z out of the front yard and put her in the house. Came right back out to get G. When I opened the door he moved over to the passenger seat, presumably to give me room to drive him somewhere.

G mighty pleased with himself

I went around to the other side and wrestled him out (they’re good dogs, but cars make them crazy) Just as I got him to the ground a fire truck went by and I glanced up. G immediately took advantage of the distraction. He jumped back up in the truck and moved over to the driver’s seat.

REALLY? I think he was laughing at me

By this time, the fire truck had turned around at the end of the street and was coming back by. I waved casually as if nothing was going on. “Hi firefighters. Nothing unusual here. Perfectly normal for me to be standing next to the truck while the dog is in the driver’s seat. By the way, I don’t look familiar at all and am completely unrelated to any of your coworkers.” They waved and kept driving. I didn’t recognize any of them, so maybe I got lucky and was able to remain incognito.

After the fire truck went by, I finally got G out of the truck and onto the driveway. As soon as I shut the truck door, he turned back into a good boy and walked into the house without me even having to ask him.

Never dull around here.