Something about me apparently radiates the fact that I am a patsy, a pushover.
I know it.
Wise Dr. Whoopee knows it. In addition to his status as a world-class prostrateologist, he is also an erudite observer of the world and political scene. Once in a while, I’ll make the mistake of telling him how much I paid for something.
“Whooee,” he’ll holler. You got stuck. They got rich on you, Bubba.”
For instance, Frosty brightened my day by running in, screaming, “The sky is falling! We’ve got a leak!”
“OK,”I said, “call a roofer to come fixed it.”
One came and made an estimate. After I came to, I told him to go ahead a fix it; it looked rainy.
“Did he roof it with gold?” the good doctor asked. “Har, har, har.”
Another example: Frosty and I stopped at a fast food place. The prices on the posters looked reasonable. Later, we figured they must have charged $3 apiece for two teas.
Patsy! Pushover! Here he comes!
A commode wouldn’t stop running. I am totally helpless when it comes to fixing things. My grandson could have fixed it when he was four. Frosty called a plumber.
You parents, you keep trying to get your kids into the name-brand colleges. No! Let them learn to be plumbers. Then, after a couple of years of plumbing, they can go to college ... or buy one. The cost of two minutes was $90.
“Call us when you need us,” they said. I said, “Gulp.”
“Whooee,” Dr. Whoopee said. “Boy, did they stick it to you.”
A few weeks ago, we stayed a couple of nights at a motel. I signed in for two nights After discounting for AARP and AAA and the Auburn Velvet Bean Growers Association, the lady gave me a price, and I paid with my credit card, elated that I had gotten such a good deal. A few days ago, Frosty got the Visa bill. The price the lady had given me was for one night. Oh, boy. Stick it to him.
But I stick around Dr. Whoopee for his gourmet tastes. If a restaurant he likes ever comes along, you’re advised to rush en masse to that wonderful place. It will be a rare, rare treat.
Even a cup of coffee will elicit a “Whooee, that’s the strongest (weakest) coffee I ever tasted.” Or, “This coffee’s too hot (cold).” He was barred from one place for causing such a stink when they seated somebody ahead of him.
Another time, “The service was lousy.” So he went back and picked up the tip his sweet wife had left on the table.
Chairman Jones and I have decided that if we ever open a restaurant and see Whoopee coming, it’ll be: “Battle Stations! Close the drapes. Lock the doors. Ain’t nobody home.”
Bob Sanders is a longtime radio personality with WAUD in Auburn and writes a weekly column for the Opelika-Auburn News.
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