While I was waiting to see my Sliverville croaker with a few other people a parade of sirens screamed up the nearby highway towards or from yet another medical emergency.
I said, "I used to live in this neighbourhood. It sounds like home."
The people in the waiting room all laughed knowingly. Sliverville has an emergency every 10 seconds or so.
My croaker said, "How's Beer today?"
I said, "Not bad except the voices in my head I keep hearing telling me to have a fucking beer every six seconds or so."
Me and my croaker have a great relationship. He's about a decade older than me and grew up in the same drug riddled neighbourhood I did. Everybody should have a doctor in favour of legalized street drugs who used to hang out with future Hells Angels when he was a kid.
He sorted out my latest medical mystery and sent me back onto the ambulance filled streets.
Later in the pharmacy I asked for some advice about a prescription I have never been given before. The pharmacist, a real helpful motherfucker, said, "Don't take with alcohol."
He may as well have told me to never take another drop of medicine the rest of my life.