It’s a busy Saturday night, and we’re well into our second seating.
More than a dozen hungry patrons, huddled together near the
door, give the evil eye to diners who linger at their tables.
Three couples, all doctors, sit together at The Meetinghouse’s most popular table. Their waiter tells me they paid the check. He’s cleared the coffee and water glasses. Now he’s officially out of ideas. How to get them to leave?
I look over just in time to see the doctors lean toward each other to talk, oblivious to the throng of diners waiting to be seated. I quickly approach them.
“Is it true that you’re all doctors?”
“Yes,” they respond, smiling.
“Hm. I–have a medical dilemma. I was wondering if I could I get your opinion on it.”
They eagerly lean toward me, ready to hear my predicament. I ask them, earnestly:
“You go to your office one day and a patient is ready for you in Room 1. You give her the allotted 20 minutes she paid for, write a prescription, leave, and close the door.” The doctors nod. “You visit Room 2 and give him a referral. You notice on the way to Room 3 that the door to Room 1 is still closed. Odd.”
“After you take care of the patient in Room 3, you decide to revisit Room 1. You knock and go in. It’s dark. The lights are turned off and the patient is asleep on the examination table. What would you do?”
I’ve never seen anyone leave a table so fast. They hustled out like the place was on fire, laughing hysterically.