Driving Doctor Mayhem

[19] No Patience

The following Monday, I sailed into the office, nearly clobbering Cleo. "Guess who you're talking to, Doc!"

Looking up from his cereal for a second, he said flatly, "Someone who's prone to asking uninteresting questions?"

I stopped in my tracks. "See, we were about to have a nice moment, you and I."

"I don't think we were."

"I'll just tell you, okay?" I waited for a polite 'okay' back, but when I realized I wasn't going to get one, plowed on. "You're talking to someone who's gotten accepted into college. Northwestern, which is very good one, I might add."

Doc smiled a little. "That's nice, Banksy. Medical school, huh. I wouldn't've guessed that."

The first day that I met Doc, I had told him that I wanted to go to medical school. He obviously hadn't been listening. "You really should've stopped after the first sentence."

"Therein lies your problem, my snarky companion," he shot back, slurping the milk out of the cereal bowl like a little kid. "How can you be a doctor with no patience?"

I choked on my own breath. "Did you just... pun?"

"Did you just ask?"

"Someone's perky." I paused. "Ish."

This earned a chuckle from Doc: the first one in weeks. "Right you are, because today we're doing something extra fun."

"Extra fun," I repeated dryly. "The last time you said anything like that, we ended up drenched in raw egg."

"And did you have fun?"

"A little."

"Well."

"What're we doing today?"

"A felony."

"A felony."

"Part of a felony, rather. Really good felonies take phases. And this is a very good felony."

I blinked.

"We're pulling a late one tonight, Bansky," he snickered, still obviously basking in the warmth of his own genius. "All you have to do is listen to my every word and you'll probably only mess up a little bit, and you'll still get paid for overtime."

I tried my best to look unimpressed.