So I've recently started at my new residency program. Done with the horrors of a medical internship and relaxing with the easy life of a medical subspecialty. And I must say, I really like most of my new coworkers. Last week, I ended up meeting one of my senior residents for a drink, staying out most of the night and sharing all kinds of secrets that should not be shared by people in the medical profession. Though I assure you, there are a lot of us with all kinds of secrets. So this particular girl, I'll call Doctor Ballerina (DB). Before going through the whole medical school / doctor route of life, she worked as a professional ballet dancer. So you can kind of already see why we would get along. It's amazing what kind of lives doctors lead before they ever put on the big white duty coat isn't it?
In any case, the strange night of the title here refers to 3 other people that have yet to be introduced in this blog. For now, I'll try and write the condensed version out right here.
So it's Friday night, DB and I had some tentative plans to hit the town. Unfortunately she seems to have taken ill that day so she had to stay home and recover. Meanwhile, I could have just gone out by myself and lived my life, but I ending up staying home, getting stoned and drunk while and eating cheap, shitty NYC mexican food and watching baseball. It was some amazing baseball on that night though, Jonathan Sanchez's no-hitter against the Padres. Anyways, game's ending and I notice a text from this girl that I wanted to get to know a little better. It's midnight and she's asking what I'm up to and if I want to come out tonight. So immediately I'm pretty happy, thinking booty call all the way. I do a little booty call dance and get dressed to head out.
Riding my scooter down to meet this girl, it dawns on me though, the girl that I wanted to plow has the same name as one of my new co-residents. Also, the girl that I wanted to plow, though I never put her phone number in my phone, I realize it's a different area code than the area code tagged to the text message that got me out that night. So I'm starting to wonder if what I thought was going to happen would actually be happening at all that night. It didn't go at all as planned.
I got to the bar and it's not the girl I wanted to plow, it's one of my new co-residents. She meets me outside the bar and informs me that another of the senior residents, the exact guy that earlier in the week within 30 seconds of meeting him, I told this girl I did not like this guy; this guy was there. The night was being quickly demoted from booty call to rescue operation. And I was a little annoyed.
So I got the 3 of us to leave the place they were at. We went to a much quiter, more chilled out pub and I had a drink and made some small talk. And as quickly as I could, I let it be known that I had to cap it and offered the girl a ride home.
So that's how we got out of there. This girl and I then ended up at some koreatown spot which probably would have been pretty cool except that I was a little annoyed and even more, that shitty mexican food was starting to destroy my gastrointestinal tract.
So then I took her home, told her that I was glad to help bail her out and reminded her to please never ask me to do that again.
Then I barely made it home. Dropped an explosive deuce, barely made it to the bed and passed out.
That was the strange night. More about the fallout from that night later on...
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Friday, July 3, 2009
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Skinny White
So I don't particularly have much in common with most doctors. I was just having a conversation with a friend of mine about how as a medical student and how even now as a resident, people would come to give lectures or talks and occasionally remark about how as a group, we as physicians must be such great future-thinkers and gratification-delayers. My entire youth it was widely regarded that I'd never live past the age of 21 due to my complete and utter lack of regard for my own safety and well-being combined with my penchant for extremely dangerous, self-destructive behaviour. I mean, if you think about it; isn't everything dangerous by necessity fun? (okay, there are exceptions, but seriously, think about it for a moment)
So that brings me to Skinny White (SW). He's Irish, he's probably the palest person I know this side of albinism, and he's about 6'3", 135 pounds. I once convinced this guy to do some push ups with me and I couldn't stop laughing for 15 minutes. So yeah, skinny and white, Skinny White. I remember first meeting this guy during intern orientation. I had on an oxford shirt and a necktie, trying to keep up appearances. He was wearing a T-shirt with the logo of an underground techno music club. Not long after, a bunch of us about-to-be interns, headed out for drinks. One by one, the flat-leavers left us and SW and I were the last 2 men left standing. We ended up walking around Brooklyn that night, having a drink at every bar we could find. I don't especially recall the cab ride home too well, but I did recall thinking that I was probably going to have to make friends with this guy. A common occurence between the last 2 people left standing after a hard night's drinking.
I would also soon discover, that both SW and I had previously trained in the arts of turntablism and also we had both at points in our lives made money busking through our respective juggling acts. I mean, how often does that happen that 2 physicians meet who also have extensive experience in the world of house, techno, turntablism and juggling.
Later on, ask we worked in the hospital further, we also both got reputations for being very smart and very arrogant. Because if you know something that the other people on your team don't, I guess you're not supposed to bring in the relevant research and give power point presentations and try to educate the rest of the team about the things that you know. Because that's just the arrogance running out of control right there.
In any case, you can imagine the hi-jinks SW and I got ourselves into. We were both, young, single, and brand new to NYC. The specific hi-jinks I will leave for another time. In terms of women, my plan was to just go around and knock out some hood-rats, you know; boom-boom-boom. SW was looking for something a little deeper and more meaningful, I think.
The person he ended up with was Worried Girl (WG). This name may not be totally fair because she really is so much more and I really do love her to pieces. However, to me at least, her defining characteristic is that she gets wound up over certain things, certain things about which SW and I would never give a second thought. For instance SW once lost his phone and because WG couldn't reach him, she obviously asummed that he was dead or kidnapped or something so she called the police and put out an APB to get the guys that took out SW. That was a tough day for SW, especially because it was my ass that had to go bail him out of jail. But whatever, we can laugh about it now.
(most of that above paragraph was fictional, if you were keeping score)
Anyways, that's the brief intro to SW and the even briefer intro to WG.
So that brings me to Skinny White (SW). He's Irish, he's probably the palest person I know this side of albinism, and he's about 6'3", 135 pounds. I once convinced this guy to do some push ups with me and I couldn't stop laughing for 15 minutes. So yeah, skinny and white, Skinny White. I remember first meeting this guy during intern orientation. I had on an oxford shirt and a necktie, trying to keep up appearances. He was wearing a T-shirt with the logo of an underground techno music club. Not long after, a bunch of us about-to-be interns, headed out for drinks. One by one, the flat-leavers left us and SW and I were the last 2 men left standing. We ended up walking around Brooklyn that night, having a drink at every bar we could find. I don't especially recall the cab ride home too well, but I did recall thinking that I was probably going to have to make friends with this guy. A common occurence between the last 2 people left standing after a hard night's drinking.
I would also soon discover, that both SW and I had previously trained in the arts of turntablism and also we had both at points in our lives made money busking through our respective juggling acts. I mean, how often does that happen that 2 physicians meet who also have extensive experience in the world of house, techno, turntablism and juggling.
Later on, ask we worked in the hospital further, we also both got reputations for being very smart and very arrogant. Because if you know something that the other people on your team don't, I guess you're not supposed to bring in the relevant research and give power point presentations and try to educate the rest of the team about the things that you know. Because that's just the arrogance running out of control right there.
In any case, you can imagine the hi-jinks SW and I got ourselves into. We were both, young, single, and brand new to NYC. The specific hi-jinks I will leave for another time. In terms of women, my plan was to just go around and knock out some hood-rats, you know; boom-boom-boom. SW was looking for something a little deeper and more meaningful, I think.
The person he ended up with was Worried Girl (WG). This name may not be totally fair because she really is so much more and I really do love her to pieces. However, to me at least, her defining characteristic is that she gets wound up over certain things, certain things about which SW and I would never give a second thought. For instance SW once lost his phone and because WG couldn't reach him, she obviously asummed that he was dead or kidnapped or something so she called the police and put out an APB to get the guys that took out SW. That was a tough day for SW, especially because it was my ass that had to go bail him out of jail. But whatever, we can laugh about it now.
(most of that above paragraph was fictional, if you were keeping score)
Anyways, that's the brief intro to SW and the even briefer intro to WG.
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