The following is a part of a series, sometimes serialized, sometimes spontaneous. It’s all farce. The characters are all fictitious and fun to be around. ENJOY

Amazing. A sense of euphoria! I’m shocked! Stunned silence! What happened? I’ll let La Flor tell you.

“It was simply awesome. Who makes people saints? I got to talk to her because Big Carmen has to be made a saint,” said La Flor.

“I think you have to be dead to be saint,” I said.

“That’s all wrong, Ray. Big Carmen took all the money from this weeks collections and we flew down to Houston, then to Tampa and he donated it. Every cent. He’s not even going to declare it on his income tax. Did you see LC helping distribute the pizzas we took down from Carmen’s Pizzeria? He was doing the work of seven men and four women. You know I said four women, because a woman does almost twice the work of a man and gets twice less pay. Let me hear it girls! Do I hear an Amen?”

“Why?” I asked.

“Of course your prejudice. After all he collects from the rich and gives to the needy. That’s the way it should be.”

“It may not be quite legal,” I said.

Doesn’t matter. Big Carmen inspired me. I know what I want to do with the rest of my life.”

“You do?”

“Yes! I am going to be doctor. I am going into family practice. I’ll be great. No, I’ll be awesome. I may get my own TV show.”

“It takes years of study, La Flor. You can’t be a doctor without going to medical school.”

“Says who? I know already everything I need to know and what I don’t know, I’ll have LC Google it. Think about it, Ray. I work a couple hours in the morning, have LC do the rest. I make lots of money. And, I become famous.”

“Sound like you’re going into medicine for all the right reasons,” I said.

“I seeing my first patient tomorrow,” said La Flor.

“You’re not a doctor,” I said.

“I beg to differ. I have proof,” La Flor reached into her handbag and pulled out a freshly printed business card.

Dr. La Flor

Specializing in Family Practice and Whatever Else Ails you.

“This will work!” I have to check the alcohol content of the wine she’s drinking. Then I said, “Who’s your first patient?”

“I’m giving Lil Carlo his annual physical. It’s an organization requirement. Big Carmen said I could be the family’s doctor,” La Flor said cocking her hair toward the front door.

The earth moved slightly, the a second tremor was felt from the 6.2 earthquake. Then from the hall, “Use got to do someting about the whole (yes, he said whole instead of hole) in the wall. Can I bee (yes he said bee instead of be) the second patient for an annual physique,” hollered LC.

“Come in here you physical specimen. Catch me,” said La Flor. One, two, three steps legs locked around LC’s hips, arms around his neck, and lips connecting. Maybe this could be an Olympic sport. I’ve got to think about the Alt Ego Olympics.

They untangled five minutes later. La Flor, grabbed hold of LC’s arm. “Ray, check out my nurse practitioner.”

“Huh?”

Come by tomorrow for Lil Carlo’s annual physical.

 

By Ray Calabrese

I am an optimistic, can do, and never quit guy. The spirit of hope indelibly marks my DNA. My research at The Ohio State University helped people discover the best in themselves and change their personal lives, public organizations, and whole communities. I bring the same spirit and enthusiasm to my blog to help those who grieve who find themselves suddenly alone, navigate their grieving. Join my more than 24,300Twitter (@alwaysgoodstuff). I promise my tweets are always good stuff. Please feel free to email me at ray.brese@gmail.com.

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