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| Maybe you had to be there? by Jerry Whorebach 08/08/2008, 8:38am PDT | ||||
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| I know the funniest thing I ever said doesn't read all that funny on paper...
*dissolves into flashback* It was a few years ago and I was with my first psychiatrist, filling out an application for PWD (person with disability) status. I was on welfare at the time, but I was only "earning" about $500 a month. PWD status would've added another $400 a month on top of that, enough that I could move out of my mom's place and maybe start bringing girls home (hey it could still happen). But first I had to get declared unfit for... pretty much anything. The PWD application has three parts. In the first part, you plead your case as to why you shouldn't have to ever contribute anything to society. That part you can fill in by yourself. The second and third parts are completed by your family physician and an expert in your particular condition, respectively. They will ask you a series of stock questions and judge the veracity of your answers. Then, if all goes well, each will give their stamp of approval and the application will proceed to the provincial capital for review and, eventually, approval. I had already completed the first two parts of mine. All that stood between me and an extra five grand a year was a good (bad) review from the local anxiety expert, who also happened to be my new psychiatrist. I guess none of this is really relevant to my hilarious joke remark, but you have to understand the pressure I was feeling to stay on my best behaviour. It was clearly in my interest to not fuck up, as not only would I be out the money, I was also going to be seeing this man every month for the forseeable future. He was running down the list of questions, asking me if I needed crutches or a caregiver or whatever and I was answering "no" to each one. Then, he asked me a question that only comes along once in a lifetime, if you're lucky: "What, if any, assistive animals do you require?" By the time I realized what I was saying, it was too late. "Perhaps... a monkey?" "A... monkey?" He paused, brow furrowed, head cocked to one side. "What would you need it to do for you?" he asked, in a tone that suggested something between disgust and morbid curiosity. I didn't blink. I didn't even speak. I just opened my mouth, and allowed the spirit of Eric Wolpaw to flow through my tongue. "Well, he could run the sweeper on sabbath." "I don't understand what you're saying." His voice was higher now. I was getting scared. "He could, you know, vacuum, and answer the telephone and stuff, on the day of rest. Because he doesn't have a soul." He stared at me, intently, for what seemed like an eternity. Then he looked down at the paper, checked the box for "no," and moved on to the next question. |
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sa is the worst forum on the internet. by 08/08/2008, 5:04am PDT  Maybe you had to be there? by 08/08/2008, 8:38am PDT Actually it does read pretty funny! NT by 08/08/2008, 8:53am PDT It's better than the something awful forums. :( NT by 08/08/2008, 9:20am PDT |
