I sat on my haunches in the waiting room of the doctor's surgery; I can't stand, sit or even lie down for longer that a few minutes, but adopting a pained expression and dropping to a squat seems to be the most comfortable way of hanging around.
"Are you ok, love?" asked a kindly old lady
"Would I be in a doctor's surgery if I was ok?" I snapped back
I instantly felt guilty and apologised to the greyhead, but it transpired that she was rather more deaf than a post and has thought I'd come for surgery for being gay.
Amazing what General Practitioners can do these days.
Upon learning that the latest round of pills have failed to do much with the pain, the doctor closed her door and drew her chair closer.
"I didn't say this, but you might want to consider a, er, herbal remedy..."
So, there you have it. Carte blanche to emulate my student heroes Cheech and Chong. And the trip to Amsterdam is certainly now looking a lot more interesting...
