Start the antibiotic drip, Doc: Itís Indians fever

Good afternoon, Mr. ...uh… let’s see here … ah, yes, Mr. Bing! And how might we be of help to you today?

I think I’m delusional, Doc.

Hey, you’re the guy who writes that column for the Observer, right?

Yeah, so?

Then I can confirm that you are indeed delusional, sir.

Ha. So how come you’re practicing medicine when stand-up is obviously your calling?

It puts my patients at ease when I inject a little levity into the office visit.

Why don’t you save that for when you hand me the bill?

Touché, Mr. Bing. I’ll make sure it lives up to your expectations. So, you think you’re delusional? Why do you say that?

I think the Indians are going to the World Series this year.

Oh, I see. This is indeed serious. Have you attempted to seek help from anyone prior to seeing me?

Well, I almost called 9-1-1 last week.

So why didn’t you?

I forgot the number.

Uh-huh. So how long have you considered yourself to be delusional?

Since December, Doc.

December of last year?

More like December of 1965.

Wow! 1965?

Yeah. I even had a little party recently to commemorate my golden anniversary of delusion-ness.

Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You actually celebrated half a century of irrational thinking?

Well, sure, if you insist upon spinning it that way.

Maybe we should start at the beginning.

I’m not sure when it all began, Doc.

I see. Well then, tell me why the year 1965 is so important to you.

See, the Browns were NFL Champions in 1964, and when they didn’t win the championship again in 1965, it made me aware of the possibility that Cleveland might not celebrate championships every year.

Every year?

Yeah. Annually, too.

Interesting. Well, Mr. Bing, I think the obvious answer is that you need to get your validation elsewhere.

You mean you won’t stamp my ticket for the parking garage?

No, Mr. Bing, I’m afraid I’m talking about a different kind of validation.

Then who’s going to stamp my ticket?

Let’s try to stay focused, please. What I’m trying to say is that you’re putting too much emphasis on sports to achieve happiness. Your expectations are such that you are depending on external factors to make you happy. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?

Well, to be completely honest, Doc, you sort of lost me right after the “stay focused” part. Can you put that in simpler terms for me?

I’m a trained psychologist, Mr. Bing, not Dr. Seuss. Here, let me write you a prescription. This should help you in the immediate future.

Thanks, Doc. Hey! All this so-called prescription says is, “Go Tribe!” What’s up with that?

I’ve been an Indians season ticket holder for 20 years, Mr. Bing. I’m being treated for those same delusions myself. Maybe I’ll run into you at the opener. Until then, all I can recommend you do is to repeat after me …

Go Tribe! 

Jeff Bing

Lifelong Westlake resident who dabbles in writing whenever the real world permits. My forte is humor and horror...Maybe someday I'll get good at it.

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Volume 8, Issue 4, Posted 9:35 AM, 02.16.2016