You can imagine what it felt like running into my heart surgeon at a Congolese strip club. Or maybe you can’t. I certainly struggle with the idea. The whole concept implies cardiovascular surgery; a procedure I have not undergone. Considering my somewhat reckless lifestyle, I don’t rule out the possibility in the future, but that just brings into question the whole space-time continuum. The statement also suggests that I have travelled to the Democratic Republic of the Congo, which is also untrue, and almost as mindboggling as the heart operation. Why would I travel to a destination that interests me in no way whatsoever? When did I have the time to go there? And why have I erased the experience from my memory. Also, what are the chances of meeting my own surgeon at such a random place? Why is he there? Perhaps he’s Congolese and the procedure took place in Kinshasa. But, why assume the capital? It’s just as likely that the operation was performed in a small regional village, or even a neighbouring Country. So which border would be the easiest to cross? I’d have to consider visas, security, and exchange rates.
The statement is simply ridiculous. It’s hard to imagine why I bought it up. Why would I choose that particular branch of medicine? Why an African nation? Why a strip club?
The statement is simply ridiculous. It’s hard to imagine why I bought it up. Why would I choose that particular branch of medicine? Why an African nation? Why a strip club?