The China Man Can

Nope.  I don’t believe it.   Everything was fine before I saw that China man, then he screwed up everything.   No, I didn’t.  That’s all bullshit.   I never had a heart attack.   If I’d had a heart attack, my left arm would have hurt.   I would’a had angina.   None of that happened.  I was fine before the China man put me under and did God only knows what when I was on anesthesia.  

    No, I don’t want to see my medical records.   I’m telling you.   He wrote in anything so he could get money from my insurance company.   Now, I feel like shit.  I’m outta breath.   No, I ain’t outta breath cause I had a heart attack, I’m outta breath cause the China Man did something to my lungs.   Dr. Wu.  That’s right.  I can never remember his name.  I ain’t never going back to him for nothing.   I got a new cardiologist who’s trying to fix what the China Man did.  Why?   Why call him Dr. Wu?   He’s a quack.   He outta go to prison.   Show me the notes from the new doc?   Why ?   What would that accomplish?   Sure.  Ok.  

     No, see, she’s believing the bullshit the China Man told her and I’ve told her it’s bullshit.   She knows it’s bullshit.  But, the insurance won’t cover what she’s doing unless she copies the bullshit and sends it to them.   No, for the billionth time, I never had no heart attack.  

 *

    Sure.   Let’s look at the bullshit records.   BP:  785/348.  No, hell I don’t even know what BP is.  Thought it was a gas station.  Blood pressure?   Yeah, he took my blood pressure, but . . . Myocardial infarction.   No, I don’t know what the fuck that is.   Maybe it’s Mandarin.   It means heart attack in Mandarin?   Oh, that’s English.  I’m telling you, he’s a bozo.   Probably got his heart doctor degree online in a two week course.  No, I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you this, I never had no heart attack.  

     Change my diet?   The China Man wrote I gotta change my diet?   Right?   He probably’s gonna recommend I go to China Town so I can support his family, right?   Low sodium, low fat?   What the fuck am I supposed to put on my cheeseburger then, soy sauce?   No more burgers.  The China Man wrote that, right?   Since when is a cheeseburger bad for me?   I’m a meat and potatoes kinda guy.  

     You know what?   I know how I’ll fix it, I’ll sue the China Man and his bullshit company.   I was feeling just fine before I went in his office for a check up, so I’ll sue the bastard?   He saved my life?   No, he didn’t.   He put that bullshit on the bill too, didn’t he?  

    I should’ve left and gotten a second opinion from a white doc.   Damn it.   No, he didn’t.  I didn’t.   I was fine.   I gonna sue the bastards.  

*

    Every race in this city has its bullshit, including mine.   The Irish are short tempered and drunks, the blacks are crooks, the diplomats can’t drive for shit, I’ve already told you about the fucking Asians, I’m Jewish and I’m a cheapskate.   That’s how God made us, by color.   No, it ain’t bullshit.  Everyone knows what part of New York has which people and what you gotta know when’s you’s with those people.   Now I know Asians are selling snake oil and won’t never go to no more Asians for no more check-ups.   The China Man is a scam artist.   Hell, if he told you I got sickle cell anemia would you believe that, too?   No, I don’t want another doc looking at the China Man’s bullshit.   The doctors try to protect each other’s reputations or protect each other from lawsuits from people like me.   See it from another perspective?   You’re my daughter.  Are you actually going to take the China Man’s word over your own father’s word?  

     Fuck this.  I’m going to the China Man’s office right now and I’m going to give him the what for.   Then, I’m going to one of those attorneys that don’t charge you nothing unless you win.   You know the kind?   Deep breaths?   Why?   Think about what?   Hell, yes, I think a judge or a jury would see it my way.  

      Look, I’ve worked in this goddamn city my whole life as a cab driver and I know what’s what.   You grew up here and I protected you.   Me, I been out driving for 30 fucking years and I know what’s what and I’m telling you this China Man is a scam artist.   Hell, probably all China Men and Women are scam artists.   They store illegal drugs in their basements and you know how they afford these drugs which these bastards sell to Mexico so they can kill our kids with it?   They get the money to buy these drugs by scamming old demented people into thinking they had heart attacks and then charging them an arm and a leg for bullshit and as long as we keep paying these bills, the China Men will keep scamming old people and they’ll keep selling drugs to Mexico and our kids’ll keep dying.   So, listen loud and clear.   I didn’t have no goddamn heart attack, I ain’t paying no goddamn bill, I’m hiring an attorney, and I’m saving our kids’ lives.  

     No, I ain’t.  I ain’t in denial.   Did the China Man pay for your clothes when you were growing up?   Did the China Man take you to the doctor when you was sick and pay the bills?   Did the China Man pay for you to go to college?   Angry?   Second Stage?   Is you dating a Chinese man?   You ain’t.   Then why you keep taking the China Man’s side.   No , he didn’t save my life.  

    Fine.  Don’t believe me.  Be a Benedict Arnold.  But, when you someday have kids and they OD at school, and you wonder why this happened to you, remember the China Man gave them my money.  

     No shit.   No, it ain’t a conspiracy, I’m not reading the Onion anymore.   Though that was the most trustworthy newspaper I ever read.    This is what’s happening.   I saw it on Fox News.  

      Of course it’s reliable.   They gotta check their facts and they got white Christians on there who give the real news.  They talk about the triangle of the cartel and who really won the last election.   They explain how the Mexicans are building homes under buildings and that’s why the IDF is bombing the fences Trump built.  I know what I’m talking about.  Yes.  I took my medications this morning.   No, I haven’t been talking to . . .   Go to sleep?   But I’m not tired.