Insert Chassis Albuquerque: September 2017

The Sundial Salesman - Opening Scene

I OVERHEARD A conversation between my boss Shimansky and his son talking on the phone. That asshole Shimansky said, "What are you doing?" and the son must've replied he was drunk because Shimansky suddenly went berserk and shouted, "Drunk! It’s 11 in the morning! You’re only 12 years old...!" as if the time the boy was drunk mattered more than his age.
The boy must have asked Shimansky what he was going to do about it because Shimansky suddenly shouted into the phone like a homicidal maniac: "Do about it! Why, I'm gonna come home right now and bash your face with the iron to teach you a lesson...!" and with that Shimansky had slammed the phone down and was gone.

The Doctor - A Cure For Writing.

“What ails you – any symptoms?” the Doctor asks.
He must be in his early fifties, this good natured doctor, maybe fifty-two or fifty-three. His earnestness (in this day and age) is novel and surprising, such unprecedented eager enthusiasm to solve this medical challenge.
However, he, the patient, remained silent. Besides, plumbing new depths of professional time wasting, there’s no real formal training for this kind of disease.

Everyone's A Critic.

It had begun grammatically, a disagreement over spelling the word "realise" (or "realize" as some spell it). Someone reacted to something I'd written, emphatically pointing out the word "realise" was spelt incorrectly.
In fact, what they said was: "Seriously? Mispelt twice?"
Of course they'd misspelt "mispelt" but I resisted the temptation to make any further judgement against this asshole - perhaps he was from the 3rd world where economising on spelling was as common as budgeting ones diet.