Rose's Cantina

I went for my first physical exam in years yesterday with the dithering Dr. Ben, a former resident of Morocco who, while fluent in the language of love, has some difficulty communicating in the language of world enterprise. Don't get me wrong; he's a lovely man, an older gentleman with a warm smile and a je ne sais quoi? attitude. A change in a mole? No problem, madame, ven it groz beeg I vill take it out! Anxiety? No, you do not have anxiety! Exercise! I couldn't help but be amused. He kind of reminded me of Dr. Spaceman on 30 Rock. If Dr. Spaceman rode a camel. First, it was clear that Dr. Ben didn't have much experience with computers. He picked and misspelled and backspaced on each word, then announced the word out loud, almost triumphantly. Normal! He also didn't seem to have any of the right equipment or supplies to do a physical on a woman of my size and age. The baby blue top I was given didn't begin to cover my breasts. It was the s...