You know the old adage, “s*&% happens”? Well, it tends to happen to me, a lot; Friday's fiasco serving as a perfect case in point. I take Crestor for my cholesterol, to keep those arteries unclogged. And beginning last year, I also started taking Levitra … for a somewhat different blood flow issue. Both pills are small, round and pinkish in hue. If one isn’t sufficiently careful, it’s easy to confuse them. I guess I’m not sufficiently careful.
I’m a lawyer by trade, and Friday morning I had to appear in court to argue a ridiculous motion, in a ridiculous case (neither worthy of more specific mention). Problem was, thanks to an overnight power outage, the alarm failed to go off, and I overslept. In my ensuing headlong rush out the door, I blindly grabbed what I assumed to be the Crestor bottle, from its traditional spot in the medicine cabinet. I popped a tablet in my mouth and sped to the courthouse. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to me, my wife Sophia had “reorganized” the medicine cabinet yesterday, in the throes of one of her periodic cleaning frenzies. By happenstance, medicinal feng shui dictated the repositioning of the erectile dysfunction bottle to the very same spot previously occupied by the cholesterol medication.
Some thirty minutes after gulping the “Crestor,” I flew into the courtroom – just in time to hear my case called. Rushing to the Plaintiff’s table, I sat by while my adversary stood and argued his motion. He droned on for ten or fifteen minutes, and then my turn came. That’s when my highly-agitated penis began haranguing me.
I call my pecker “Little Richard.” We speak to each other too. Not out loud; I’m no nutjob. Naturally, I’d prefer to name him “Big Richard.” But, being white and Jewish … “Little Richard” it is.
As the moment arrived for me to argue my client’s position, Little Richard alerted me to a growing problem in his general vicinity: “Moron, you swallowed the wrong pink pill! And since Sophia’s nowhere in sight, it looks like I’m all dressed up and no place to go!”
There wasn’t much I could do at that point, except remain seated at all costs. So I started responding to my opponent’s arguments, from my chair. Before I got three words out of my mouth, the Judge interrupted, forcefully instructing me: “Mr. Stern, here it’s customary to stand and address the Court.”
All I could think was, isn’t that what I’m doing already?
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