Big Boy at the Video Store Thinks I'm a Doc...

Lot of folks have been curious about my encounters with the Big Boy that works the local video (a faltering institution, line up at Red Box you cows) store. If you remember my last post, he was suspecting I was a college professor. Seems he sighted me in my hospital scrubs somewhere and now thinks I'm a doctor. He knows I'm something, and I will confess as seen in this picture I am a doctor of catfishing. Our latest meeting of minds went something like this:

I'm standing at the counter and Big Boy announces to the store "We have a doctor in the house." Heads turn everywhere. I only triage the patients who can pay cash money or have micro livestock, non-perishable food items and gently used household goods to trade. I don't want to mess up Obama's chances at health care reform by running some kind of medicare swindle on the federal dime and I sure will not file on any one's insurance card because that is like horning in on Mafia territory. When the treatment line thins down I take my movie to the counter.

Big Boy says "I been watching those movies you rent, trying to up my I.Q." This gives me pause for thought, I don't know if anything like this is even possible.

"That Viking movie," he continues, " you were all wrong about that one, it was bad." This is quite the coincidence, a comment like this since I have recently been in deep study on the subject of narcissism, which when applied to this situation can be summed up as the fact that he sees no reason to disbelieve that all his movie choices and opinions are anything less than awesome. I am really sorry that the Viking movie has been a set back to him but I have learned you really can't discuss these things with a narcissist, you just have to deal with them and the way I try to deal with Big Boy is explain what kind of health care worker I am.

After I explain, he's sitting in a low chair, hands on belly hanging between his knees and he says, "Good maybe you can tell me how I can lose 20-30 pounds, I been eating at Subway (it's located right next door) four or five times a day and it's not helping."

I say, "Well since that's the case I suspect that's a baby in there and you need to see my wife the L & D nurse."

By the way, that's not Big Boy behind me in the catfish picture. I don't have a photo of him yet.