The roar of a television sounds in the distance, and if my youth taught me anything, it’s that someone is watching either Maury or Jerry Springer reruns based on the constant bleeping and yelling. “Pop!” she bellows as we near an archway. “Turn that off before you scare this one away, too!” This one? Oh, hell. I was more worried about the hiring parties rather than the patient himself. In hindsight, that was stupid. Dirty old men are worse than rich jerks any day. “Stop telling me how to live my life!”
