Conversations Overheard in Waiting Room Yesterday

Here are excerpts of conversations I heard and simultaneously e-mailed to Amy yesterday while I was waiting FOR AN HOUR AND A HALF in the plastic surgeon's waiting room. The appointment was just to say hi. Took TWO HOURS to say hi to me. On the other hand, I collected these marvelous conversations, below.

I'm in the waiting room sitting next to Jed, Granny, and Jethro. They have strong opinions on medicine, Don Imus, and numerous other topics. As you might imagine, they can't figure why it is ok to make fun of old white guys, "and old white WOMEN," chimes in Granny, but not anyone else.

And surely no one in here is getting a facelift, they ponder. This place is just for serious surgeries. It is taking everything I've got not to tell them that I'm here to discuss my upcoming boob job.

Now they are talking about how easy it is to tell the front leg of the deer from its back leg, given that someone of their acquaintance actually has a deer leg caught in a screen door. Through the magic of cell phones, they are considering calling the acquaintance to advise her of which leg it might be, based on the description.

"Tell her that a rake is the best thing to move it with," says Jed. And Granny says, "Even if it's a hind leg, tell her she she doesn't need to save it."

And Jethro, who has apparently been charged with making the call, bursts out, "Heck! I want to see it before she gets rid of it!"

I pick up the conversation again when Jethro says he once went to Mexico and paid $25 for a hamburger. He doesn't remember what town it was in, but Granny remembers it was the same place where Elizabeth Taylor went with her eighth husband.

Speaking of food, they are concerned about the buffet being closed by the time they get back to their motel. They may have to go to Olive Garden again.

Jed is complaining right now how brief the anesthesia meeting was. "He didn't even tell me his name," grumbles Jed. "Well," says Granny, "did you get his business card?"

"I didn't want his business card. I didn't want to know him at all," snaps Jed, effectively ending that topic of conversation.

I tune back in when they are trying to remember the character who played "the warsherwoman" on some TV show who was always getting hit with a purse by some old guy who was trying to get a date with her.

"Was it Carol Burnett?"

"No, but the old guy was definitely Tim Conway."

"Maybe it was Saturday Night Live." [And right here let me add, parenthetically, if these overall-ed folks ever watched SNL, it was one of the seaons in which the show had totally jumped the shark.]

"No."

"The woman wasn't all that ugly when she was cleaned up though. I remember that."

I'm enjoying the exchange too much to say "Ruth Buzzi" and "Laugh-in." And if I'd tried to explain that it was she who had hit Arte Johnson with HER purse, then we'd be at it all day.

As it was, this conversation, like the others, just trailed off. While I waited for next GRNF (group random neural firing), they were called in for their appointment. I think Jed was the actual patient. Granny was there for moral support. Jethro obviously had driven the truck.