When Magoo the Large was born, my body was a mess. 10.5 pounds of baby will do that to a wee flower like myself and so it was that my hip joints were unbearably painful. My doctor took some X-Rays and asked me if I’d like to see a specialist. Sure. Does he come with drugs? Send him in. Not enough people have seen me breastfeeding today.
Doctor Santanisto had dark wavy hair, pulled mostly back in a physician’s doo rag. He had a soul patch, expressive eyebrows and a slightly sinister look about him.
He was professional and helpful but I couldn’t get over the thought that I had just had a run-in with a caricature of an evil doctor from ER or possibly a Seinfeld-like nemesis.
“Helloooo Kathryn.”
“Hello Dr. Santanisto.” (In the voice Jerry reserves specially for Newman.)
A couple of days later I was back up at the hospital’s lactation center being fitted for a high quality mammary suspension device and I started to describe the specialist doctor to Dan.
“It was just weird. I wish you could have met him but there was something about him. It was like he’d stepped right out of a hospital drama, the ruthless surgeon who smooth-talks the patients and then goes off and fires interns for yawning or handing him the wrong scalpel. I picture his laugh to be a deep cackle. I really wish you could have seen him.”
Two minutes later I was hobbling out of the parking lot when something caught my eye. Not 10 feet from my car sat a black BMW convertible with red leather seats, the top down being driven by — DR. SANTANISTO!
“Dan! LOOK! That’s him and he’s driving Satan’s car!”
Dr. Santanisto’s wavy hair was loose in the wind, an extra-long cigarette dangling from his sneer.
“Wow,” said Dan, “That’s creepy.” This is what I’m saying.
You know I love casting people as I drive around town. If I’m ever the casting director for ER The Next Generation, Dr. Santanisto’s totally gonna play that one mean guy.
Casting people…I so can’t laugh at that like I normally would, because I do the exact same thing. Unfortunately it involves looking at people that littlest bit too long and too hard. I get shot some nervous looks, that’s for sure.
My mental picture of Dr. Satanisto is incredibly vivid. Man, red leather seats in a black car. Tack-keeee!
Of course he’s driving Satan’s car! Like adding that little “n” in the middle is going to throw us off. What was his first name, Lucinfer?
Ok, I know it’s not the point, but “being fitted for a high quality mammary suspension device” CRACKED. ME. UP.
Hilarious.
You had me at do-rag.
I love your characterization of this dude.
I can totally picture him. That IS creepy.
Is that his real name? Cuz what if he googles himself one day when he’s bored (like that poor farmer the other day who found out the government had the SS numbers of thousands of farmers just out there on the web for all to see) and comes back to haunt you in the Satan-mobile, wavy hair spiked out like Medusa, a Jack Nicholson grin on his souled out face. The man has scalpels! He’s gonna make mince-Kathryn outa you!
I changed the name slightly to avoid pesky google searches but the idea is definitely the same.
You changed his name slightly? I’ll bet his real name IS Dr. Satanisto. Or maybe it is Dr. Satanistic.
My favorite line: “Sure. Does he come with drugs?” It’s funny because it’s true!
Dr. Santanisto SMOKES? Tell me you made that part up…
My Grandma had a doctor named Dr. Blood, yep, not making that one up either. I just wish I knew what he looked like so I could be sure of the casting…
10 and a half pounds…what? WOW. 10 and half pounds….