Waiting: Orthopedist (C)

Accompanying: Finished a book (WABI-SABI), (11 holes of DESERT GOLFING), waiting, waiting,  now at two hours in a relatively comfortable pleather chair among a sea of relatively comfortable pleather and wood chairs atop blueish leaf carpets enclosed by walls filled with clearance rack Kohls paintings of bridges and maps, a scant magazine selection though one promises to “change my life and my butt” so I’ve got that going for me (22 holes of DESERT GOLFING), and at least the TV is on mute but oh fuck it’s DR OZ (send help): Could your home sweet home be a former meth house? Dr Oz says it’s more common than I might think, but first, Did an illness turn a perfect doctor into a sex fiend? (Maybe) How appropriate for a waiting room in which I’m now the only one left waiting (34 holes of DESERT GOLFING), Are you waiting to see a doctor? No I’m waiting on someone waiting to see a Doctor, where’s your bathroom?