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So, I have this hat…

August 27, 2011 - 7pm

I’ve been going to a chiropractor since March, since I had been more or less constantly in pain from my hip and knee being wildly out of alignment. The pain was frequently bad enough that it caused a noticeable limp and prevented me from walking to work.

My chiropractor examined me, crunched a few bones, and told me that my problem was one that needed correction through treatment.  He started me on twice-weekly visits.  My pain has been significantly better, and I’ve been progressing along nicely.  About a month into treatment, after he was done crunching my bones, he introduced a chunk of foam I’m supposed to lie on for a few minutes at night in order to correct my head-forward posture.

You know the one–the hunched, hands-at-a-keyboard gnome-like posture of the inveterate computer junkie, e.g., me.

I said ok to this, since everything so far has been beneficial.  Lie on it for a few minutes each night, and it will help.  So I did.  Most nights I forget to do it, but my neck posture was steadily improving anyway.  My pain was getting better.

Next, he decides that it’s time for head weights.  This consists of a hat with seven pounds of metal in it, or as I call it, “The stupidest hat anyone has ever worn.”  It’s like a crown for the king of jackasses.  Have a look at it.

So I’m supposed to wear this thing for five to ten minutes a day.  But, here’s the catch… I can’t just wear it.  Since the natural reaction to having a massive, stupid hat on your head is to slowly slump forward, I have to be constantly moving to counteract my body’s natural anti-idiocy reflex.  The result is that for five to ten minutes a day, I parade around my apartment with this damn thing on my head.  Or worse, stand in front of the TV with a controller in my hands, playing video games,  marching in place.

Sometimes I think my chiropractor is just fucking with me.  In a few months he’ll say, “You were actually doing thati?!  Holy shit!”  At this point, he will call in the receptionist and point at me.

“He was actually wearing the hat!”

“No way.”  She’ll say.  Then, to me: “Really?  You thought that was real?  No one thinks that’s real!”

I will nod glumly and look for the nearest exit.  As I try to leave, they will grab me, and the receptionist will put the hat back on my head.  My chiropractor will pose next to me with a double thumbs up and giant grin, and a photo will be taken.   The photo will be sent to Chiropractor Monthly, where I will be captioned “Victim of the month.”

Recommendation

August 22, 2011 - 8pm

We’ve had an intern working in our department for the summer, and he’s leaving on Wednesday.  He’s been connecting with everyone on LinkedIn, and asked me for a recommendation.

I gave him one.  I don’t understand why he wouldn’t use it.

Alex is literally the laziest, most incompetent jackass I’ve ever had the misfortune of working with. Every request was greeted with a grunt of annoyance or outright hostility.

Most days, a “work” day for him consisted of sitting outside the ladies room with his ear to the door until he was chased away by security. Then, five or six hours with a phone sex line on speaker phone, followed by draining a bottle of cheap vodka at his desk.

Multiple attempts were made to fire him. These were stymied by his insistence that he is a “proud black woman” and that racism and “the man” were keeping him down. Apparently these complaints have to be investigated, no matter how spurious.

And he is lousy in bed.

 

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