This week I went to see my beloved chiropractor. I may have mentioned him a time or two or three.
We were chatting about my trip to Vegas and about my basement troubles. I told him I was likely going to have to raise the $18 grand by selling one of my sisters. He assured me I wouldn't get that much. At least not for Lyn. He recanted quickly saying he knew he would be in trouble with her the next time she came to see him. I told him I had said much meaner things about her.
"Yes, I'm sure", he replied, "but the connection between sisters is different than between chiropractor and patient. I mean, don't get me wrong, Lyn and I are tight..."
Apparently, he joined a Detroit inner city gang while I was away.