Yes, That Was Her Name

The door opened and a woman dressed all in blue called The Curmudgeon’s name.  He closed his book, rose from his seat, and walked to the door, where they exchanged greetings.  He stepped inside the door and she had him step on a scale (not bad).  She led him back to an examination room, had him take a seat, took his blood pressure (excellent!), reviewed the medicines he takes (59 years old and no pills!), inquired about the purpose of his visit, typed a few quick notes into the computer, and spoke.

“The doctor will be with you shortly.  If you need anything before then, I’ll be just outside the door.”

She rose to leave and smiled, adding “My name is Ikea.”

Seriously.

And The Curmudgeon admits to taking a quick peek at the jewelry hanging around her neck, thinking it might be an itty-bitty Allen wrench.

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