"Sorry. What do you do for a living?" he asked, pressing his fingers into my gut.
"I'm an assistant editor for a magazine," I replied, taking a deep breath.
"Good. Now cough. What magazine?"
"Stereophile."
The doctor jumped back abruptly, tossed his arms into the air, made a jolly sound, and exclaimed, "Oh, you've made my day!"
What had he found? I wondered. "Oh?" I asked.
"I'm a fan, I'm a fan! Where are my magazines?" he asked, searching through a ragged stack of glossies hanging against the examination room…