The Doctor Is Deceased

Story by Dr. Rodger Entwistle 

| Published Oct 14, 2008

I saw something that disturbed me today. EVERYTHING!

What is wrong with the world?

Sorry, I wrote the above statements while drunk and I don’t really remember what brought them about. So, I guess I’ll write this week’s column about something else.

Although, this column, like all the others, I wrote while drunk, so I probably won’t remember writing it.

Something happened to me this past week.

I got laid. I don’t really remember how it happened and I sure as shit don’t remember her name, but it happened. This makes me very excited, because this doesn’t usually happen to me.

Normally I repulse women, or so the people around me tell me, because I don’t usually remember where I was or who I talked to the night before when I wake up in the afternoon.

But I usually just say, “fuck it, I’m past my prime and no one cares about me anyway.” It’s not like anyone wants to have sex with a 47-year-old alcoholic divorcee who lives alone in a 10x10 apartment with a broken window and no heat.

But somehow it happened, and here’s the sad part. I don’t remember it.

All I know is that I woke up next to some woman, and I was stuck to the sheets. When she woke up, she turned over, looked at me, screamed a little, jumped out of my twin bed, threw on MY robe and ran out of my apartment.

That’s the only time I’ve ever seen the woman, in that sad state at the sight of my sad state. It always strikes me odd when things like that happen to me out of context. I don’t know if the sex was any good, but if her reaction was any judge, I probably got violent.

Or she thought I was someone else when she came home with me, only to realize that…oh shit.
That girl is in one of my classes.

Shit. Shit! SHIT!!! Now I remember. Oh god, no. I had sex with one of my students.

SHIT!!!

Um, alright, I’ll admit, if you can comprehend this, I’m writing this while very, very drunk. When you read this, it will be more than a week after the fact, but I’m just this very minute while writing it realizing what I did.

If you read the papers, I may very well already be fired. Or worse, killed by her father.

SHIT!!!

Well, fuck it. That’s pretty much the end of my career. This might be the last you hear from old Dr. Rodger.

If that’s the case, I’m going to go try to accomplish what I’ve tried so many times before.

See you all in hell.