August 10, 2006


Emily’s phone rang before we left for work this morning. It was Sweety on the line. If you can remember Sweety, the unsophisticated wench who’s frantic about everything in her life, who’s also one of Emily’s dearest friends.

I wasn’t immediately made known why she called, but from what I gathered through Emily’s side of the conversation, I managed to make up that she hadn’t been menstruating for a while, which lent her the suspicion that she might be knocked up, and had been to the doctor to look at ‘the problem’ (or something like that).

Here’s the reconstruction of what I heard from that one sided conversation (though may not be verbatim, but is as accurate as the original) –

Emily : “So you’ve been to the doctor?”

Sweety [on the other side of the line] : [inaudible speech]

Emily : “What did he say?”

Sweety : [inaudible speech]

Emily : “So did he give you a pregnancy test?”

Sweety : [inaudible speech]

Emily : “WHAT?”

Sweety : [inaudible speech]

Emily : “You mean, the one that he straps around your arm, pumps it tight and then slips in with a stethoscope????”

Sweety : [inaudible speech]

Emily : “NOOOO GIRLLL!!! That thing is used to check your BLOOD PRESSURE, not to check if you’re pregnant!!!!”

Self explanatory, people. It doesn’t take a genius to decipher what actually happened here.

When Emily hung up, she and I looked at each other, and gave a tacit acknowledgment about her friend’s superior display of obtuseness.

I wonder what could have happened if the doctor were to strap that sphygmomanometer on her head and pump it up tight… She’d probably think that she’s going through a lobotomy… NO SHIT!

(Man, I’ve been laughing by myself many times since this morning whenever I think about this blunder… I think I might need to get a ‘pregnancy test’ myself soon…)

michaelooi  | phonecalls  | 

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