HOME



Pony: This story appeared in toronto life
5.1.2001


There was no internal examination and he is no longer my doctor.

So I go to this naturopathic gynecologist last february who looks at my chart and says: 'You were born on the exact same day as my son. Same year and everything. And it says here that you are a writer. My son is a playwright. Maybe you know him?'

Nope.

Looking at me closely he says, "You know, I have this feeling about you and my son. I think you would make a good match. Do you mind if I give him your number?"

Yes. please don't


"Well, take his, at least." He passes me a perscription sheet with his son's number on it.

Um, I think your son would be mortified if he knew you were trying to set him up with a patient. And besides, we should be talking about my ovaries, not your son! (in spite of myself, I start laughing.)


"But your ovaries could be part of my son's future!"

This was weird, but so incredible and funny that I told all my friends. That summer I met the son in question. And told him the story. And he asked me to see a play in the park. So I did. And he was unspeakably lovely.

This is the official story.

Everytime I see his dad, I wonder about the other stuff I put on my chart. Phrases like "single and sexually active."



comments  |   5/1/2001  |  perma-link

›bio: adina
›archives



«« (back) (forward) »»
  pickle soup



pony
Previous Posts
› That time facebook killed a robot
› Vaccine dreams and waiting for some release
› It's okay to miss who you used to be
› What's a Nice Jewish Girl Doing With a Tree Like This?
› How To Celebrate Mother's Day When You've Lost Your Mom
› Cassette Players Were A Pain, But There Was Nothing More Romantic Than A Mixtape

›comments[0]
›all comments

›post #1
›bio: adina
›perma-link
›5/1/2001
›13:42

›archives
›first post
›that week






Category List
› bun in the oven
› February Smackdown
› gastro-intentional
› India
› me likey
› monkey cake
› narcisimo
› news
› open letters
› politico


© happyrobot.net 1998-2025
powered by robots :]