Waiting for Alan

I am rapidly realizing that the doctor's office is the social network of the aging. Almost nobody comes up in a bar anymore and talks to me, but walk into the doctor's waiting room and it's nothing but a gaggle of wrinkled Chatty Cathies. Yesterday I had to go to the doctor again. I truly hate going but my advancing age seems to dictate that I see doctors more often than I see some close friends. The only thing worse is the whining of Mark about having to sit there and wait for me. Speaking of waiting rooms, this doctor has a little trick that he uses to fool you into feeling good when you walk in. He has an empty waiting room. Mark and I walked in and I assured Mark that this would be a breeze since I was the only person there.

            "Alan?" the young woman in the blue scrubs called out.
I looked around the empty room, and back to the lady. "That would be me." 
           "Please come with me." She said in a cheerful voice.

We walked down a short hallway and I was ushered into a small room where she asked me a few questions. She then she told me to come with her.

            "Okay, have a seat in there sir."

She was pointing into a small room lined with chairs. Each chair was occupied by sick and hacking patients, one older than the next. In the far corner I spied an empty chair, and sat down.

            "So this is where they're hiding everybody." I joked to an appreciative crowd. I knew it would be a long wait so I turned to the stack of magazines the doctor provided. On top of the stack was a television fan magazine that was touting the virtues of all the new fall shows. They were really high on one new show, We Are Men. They seemed to think it would be a hit. As I  dug deeper into the pile of magazines I came across a Newsweek from August 2012 with an article about the heat wave. Digging even further I found another Newsweek with an article about McCain's brilliant choice for Vice President. Deeper in the pile I came across a few tattered People Magazines, and finally a magazine called Outdoor. I picked up the Outdoor Magazine and immediately felt the sliminess. It was well worn and actually moist to the touch, the sweat of every patient who had been through that waiting room dripping from the pages. That was when I remembered, I did not get a flu shot this season.