They Don't Make Roommates Like That Anymore.

Since it's National Tell A Story Day, this story came to mind. For one weekend in 2007, I was admitted to the hospital to have them administer a new heart drug to me. This is the story of my roommate...

My hospital roommate was something one could only dream up, except I’m telling the truth. He was an older Southern Gentleman, a real Southerner. As opposed to fake Southerner, which be would akin to Harvey Corman in the Carol Burnett "Gone With The Wind" skit. Listening to his voice, I felt like the Confederates were just moments away from stealing my plantation and drinking all my sweet tea…I mean that what the Civil War was like, right? I should probably begin podcasting, because written word will never, ever do justice to my impersonation of him calling his mother’s caretaker. As he was watching an I Love Lucy rerun (as opposed to the new episodes I guess. Did I really need to say it was a rerun), he called his mom’s care taker and this is what I heard (now picture a very, very dignified Southern voice saying this ‘tell mutha, that Vitameatavegimin is on. You can watch your stories lata, Vitameatavegimin is on.’ I was laughing so hard I almost popped my IV out. Moments later his phone rang and in the same dignified voice, I heard ‘I will have to call you back in 90 minutes. Vitiameatavegimin is on and then I need to watch my Judge Hatchett.’ All I could do every time his mouth opened was picture Forrest Gump’s Mama’s house.