10.02.05 - 2:22 p.m.

three times in past twenty-four hours i have fallen in
love with strangers or pseudo-strangers,
old men i talk to on the telephone at least once a week,
people whose illnesses and i are intimately acquainted
and one, lost, hard of seeing with a giant black poodle.
yesterday, on the phone:

i haven't talked to you in a long time, mr. b.
(muffled, slow) i guess i just keep missing you. i could call more... should i ask for you?
you can, if you want to.
don't get me wrong; i'm not trying to be a flirt or nothing.

his medication had been changed from doxazosin to flomax, both for "prostate problems,"
as he described it. the doxazosin was cheaper, and he'd like to
switch back, if that was okay?
but what should i do with this leftover flomax? should i return it to the pharmacy?
i don't want to get into trouble.

well, i think we trust that you won't be selling your prostate medication on the street.
yeah, i don't even live by the street. i'd have to sell them to the deer.
and i don't think they get prostate problems.

looking for his therapist's office, being towed behind a
fluffy black poodle half his size, he asked for suite 209.
after looking his doctor's name up in the whitepages, we determined
that he was in the wrong building.
but what was that music you were listening to? i really liked it, was it hindu?
it was a band called interpol.
are they hindu? they were really terrific.
maybe a little.
i'll have to buy their compact disc sometime. i just got a compact disc player for christmas.
i copied all the songs onto a cd for him, ran down the street after him and his poodle
and he said oh bless you sweet girl as i put it into his hand.

heaven restores you in life
previous next

the project museum

the revolution will be catalogued

this american life

the library of congress

i used to believe







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