So last week I was feeling under the weather: sniffling, a little dry cough, fever, you know the drill. Normally I would just ignore it, but my wife insisted that with “all this yucky coronavirus stuff” I go see Dr. Pool. Reluctantly, I went in, got a check-up, blood drawn, the whole nine yards.

Fast forward a week later. Dr. Pool called me up, “Hey, Mr. Adamson, I’m going to need you to come in person to the office to discuss your lab results.” Uh oh, “in person?” I thought that was odd considering we’re all supposed to be avoiding physical contact, but who am I to argue?

Well, I walked in the door to Dr. Pool’s office, and what do I see? A bottle of Jack Daniels and a shot glass on the table! I was seriously thinking “I didn’t know I was walking into the backstage at a rock concert! This is NOT good.” Figured I’d just cut to the chase.

I asked him point-blank if I had COVID-19 and he completely dodged the question “Eh, we have the rest of your life to talk about those pesky little test results.” he said. “Marlboro Red 100?” And he handed me a cigarette!

Fuck. Last time I checked cigarettes were, like, very bad for you, especially if you’re sick! But I didn’t wanna be rude so of course, I lit up. “Are you sure this is okay, Dr. Pool?” I asked, followed by “Anything else you need to tell me?” He replied “Please, call me Jonathan. And smoke up. Say, would you like some pure, uncut Colombian cocaine?”

Dr. Pool then divided up six giant lines of coke! Right there in the office. I’m like “Is this 1885?! What are you gonna prescribe me next? HEROIN!?”

As soon as I said heroin he says “Oh shit, that reminds me!” and then he calls somebody and goes “Hey there, Mr. Richardson? Doc Pool here. Listen you should probably go back on heroin. Don’t worry if the needle is clean just go for it.” Just like that!

I hung around the office for a few more hours because I didn’t want to go home all coked up, and the dude just kept making calls like that to patients the whole time!
“You want some Fine China? Snort away.”

“Always wanted to have unprotected sex with a stranger? Have at it!”

“Why not drive a BMW off of a cliff at 100 miles per? Go steal one from a rich man it’ll be fun!”

The longer I hung around the crazier his advice got.

“Fuck a shark!” he told one dude.

I’m not trying to sound paranoid but it sort of seemed like this medical professional knows something the rest of us don’t. Like, something bad. I was pretty worried about it but Dr. Pool wrote me a prescription to Zanax for that and just wrote “whatevs lolz” under dosage so I’m pretty fucking mellow now.