A man drags himself into a small family clinic, looking absolutely miserable.
His eyes are watery, his hair’s a mess, and every few seconds he lets out a loud, hacking cough that startles people in the waiting room.
When his name is finally called, he shuffles into the doctor’s office and collapses into the chair.
He says, “Doc, I’ve got this awful headache that feels like someone’s beating a drum inside my skull, I can’t stop coughing, and my nose is running so much I’m thinking of installing windshield wipers. I feel terrible.”
The doctor nods sympathetically, takes a quick glance at his chart, then suddenly points toward the window with complete seriousness.
“Alright,” the doctor says, “could you walk over there, open that window, and stick your tongue out for me?”
The man blinks. “Uh… stick my tongue out the window? Really? I mean, yeah, I can, but… how’s that supposed to help my symptoms?”
The doctor leans back in his chair, folds his arms, and says, “Honestly? It won’t help you at all. I just really don’t like the guy who lives across the street.”
