by Lou Godbold
“Goldberg? Ms. Goldberg?”
“Er, my name's Godbold. Are you calling me?”
“Right this way, Ms. Goldberg. Now if you'd just take a seat I'll pull up your medical record.”
“God-bold. My name's Godbold.”
“Now let me see, Goldstein, Goldsmith, we don't have a Goldberg, Louise.”
“That's because my name isn't Goldberg.”
“I'm sorry, I just glanced at it briefly. Let's see, Goldbold.”
“Actually, it's God, Godbold.” I attempt a smile, “Can't confuse God with gold,” (at least, not if you've been listening to the series on idolatry at my church.)
“Uh-huh.” She doesn't look convinced. Perhaps she's set up an altar to a golden calf in the staff lounge.
“The name means, ‘good and brave.'”
“Oh, you've done that genial-ology thing?”
“Er, no.”
“Your family told you?” she asks suspiciously, perhaps thinking they'd got it wrong and it was Goldberg all along.
“Yes. My family has lived in Britain since about the year five hundred.”
“Ah, they went through the Holocaust and all that?”
“No, we're Anglo-Saxon!”
“Oh, sorry, I thought you said you were Jewish. So, Ms. Goldbold, what is the reason for your visit today?”
“Regular check up.”
“Okay.” She types something into the computer. “And what is your first language?”
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I never visit my healthcare provider without coming away with some theatre-of-the-absurd dialogue. God bless Kaiser Permanente for paying their nursing assistants peanuts.
Last line made me grin. Smart!
The title reminds me of John Berryman's "Imaginary Jew," a notes section in his posthumous novel, Recovery.
I take it as creative nonfic., and it is so believable as an event told in dialogue in the doctor office setting.
this is great. made me smile the whole time. very funny.
I don't know which I like better, grins or 'fav's, but I am very happy to get both!
Yes, Ann, creative non-fiction. Somehow fiction never lives up to the absurdity of my reality. I love the idea of writing a posthumous novel - it means I don't have to worry if I don't get around to writing it in this life.
Silly Americans. This about sums up all doctor office staff.
Don't get me wrong, AJ, I love Americans. It's nursing assistants I hate!
great piece, lou. you tell so much by showing. also, funny, ms goldbloom.
This is a screaming riot and completely slayed me. Tzai Gazunt!
A sheynam dank, Michael. Not bad for a 'shikse' huh?
You're a fearless and funny observer, Ms. Godbold. Love the exit line in this slice of life!
Funny, funny, very.
Thanks, thanks, much!
funny! i once wrote a short play called My Life as a Shiksa...
Well, mazal tov ;-) From another honorary one...(or so she thinks)
funny, deft, excellently observed and captured!
i had a grin most of the way through this. wry and so, so true. nice job.
Nora, I think to be a true shiksa, you have to be blonde. But who am I to deny anyone honorary status? Welcome to the lost tribe.
Kim, Julie, David - glad you liked it. Turning Kaiser visits into lemonade.
this made me smile. I love quick pieces like this...little glimpses into daily scenes that deserve to be captured. I can definitely relate as well, being called everything from Vackqueer to Vasquez
Great way to tell a story. Good piece. I like it.
All funny, Lou, but my favorite line was "Perhaps she's set up an altar to a golden calf in the staff lounge." I can see them on bent knee worshipping it during their 15-minute coffee breaks :)
There is frustration behind the humour (sorry Australian spelling!)that makes this so engaging. Very well written (have faved)
Thought this was terrific. Deft and delicious.
Oy vey, what a shemozzle! Anything that makes me laugh is worth a *.
Very good piece, Lou.
Try it with just the dialogue. I think it works even better. (Just an idea!)