Imaginary Player

Dr Merteuil is walking away from the table as I sop my cornbread muffin into the baked beans and return a page from my cell phone. It’s the ED, telling me there’s an emphysema patient in the emergency department. I’m told she’s stable, so I send my second intern to evaluate her while I finish my lunch. Dr Semmelweis sits down at the table and joins me.

‘What were you guys talking about?’ he asks, motioning at Dr Merteuil as she puts her labcoat back on and leaves the lounge.

‘Rap music,’ I say, as a little dig at him. At the beginning of our residency we were at a meet-and-greet where someone asked him what kind of music he liked.

‘All kinds of music,’ he said. Causing me to pity him, but then he transformed the pity into hatred by saying, ‘except Rap and Country.’

The questioner turned to me and asked me what kind of music I liked.

‘Mostly Rap,’ I said, ‘and Country.’

That laid the foundation for our relationship.


‘Yeah, those rappers lead some fucked up lives, huh?’ Semmelweis says as Dr Pasteur sits down, joining us.

‘Yes, Semmelweis,’ I say, ‘they do. Like that “Can I Get a Butt-Plug” song? I’m still amazed they played that on the radio so much.’

‘I guess I don’t know that one.’

‘Erik, what the fuck are you talking about?’ Dr Pasteur says. ‘There is no ‘Can I Get a Butt-Plug’ song.’

‘I think it’s Jay-Z. It was popular about 6 years ago I think.’

‘You’re on crack, Erik.’ Dr Pasteur says. ‘It’s whoop whoop’

‘I think he says butt-plug,’ I say, digging into my banana pudding.


‘Lisa Lisa Cult Jam isn’t Rap, why were you talking about her?’

‘We weren’t talking about Lisa Lisa Cult Jam,’ I say.

‘When I was walking over to the buffet I heard Merteuil mention You Got It All Over Him.’

‘That wasn’t about Lisa Lisa,’ I say, getting up as my pager goes off. ‘I gotta return this page. Good seeing you, Dr Pasteur.’