This morning at the club swimming pool at the shallow end, as I rested after a few vigorous post-workout laps, a distinguished-looking gentleman very gracefully swam up to me.
DLG: Hello.
Me: Hello.
DLG: I am Dr.S***** S******.
Me: Kedar. Pleasure. How may I help?
DLG: Is that your olive green Royal Enfield canvas bag in the changing room?
Me: Yes, is there a problem?
DLG: You see, I have the exact same bag, and I opened yours and put my wet hands in by mistake, thinking it to be mine. I’m sorry.
Me: Oh. You should have been more care… Wait, what name did you say?
DLG: Dr.S***** S******. I am a gastroenterologist.
Me: Doc, you conducted a colonoscopy on me last year.
DLG: Oh. Yes. I remember.
Me: Considering where you’ve been and how intimately you know me, I think putting your wet hand in my canvas bag shouldn’t really be that much of a problem, right? I mean, when you’ve been in my back, being in my bag should pose no issues, eh? Feel free to probe around while you’re there, I say.
DLG: HAHAHAHA. I’ve heard some really funny jokes about my profession. But this one takes the cake.
Me: No shit, Sherlock!
