Soulmates and Sasuage

Wow, oh, wow, oh, wow. I actually got the Steenkers herself to guest blog over here in my teeny tiny corner of the bloggieverse. We have this HUGE rivalry going on for the bloggie affections of Captain Dumbass (whom you read a few posts back). I secretly think I'm in the lead because of my accent, but I can feel her breathing down my neck (hold off on the onions next time you eat that sammich, Steenkers). Before I embarrass either of us a bit more, I give you Jen over at Steenky Bee.


For some reason, Mama Dawg, (old favorite) and Jess over at This Life is Mine (one of my new favorites) were under the assumption that I would be guest posting today about a stripper on a mechanical bull. I guess they assumed so because I sent them an email stating that I would be posting about a stripper on a mechanical bull.

Well, I thought long and hard about following through on my promise, but decided that in order to give this topic the sort of post it really deserved, I needed to do a little more research. You now all know exactly how I will be spending my Friday nights.

Annnnnnyway….

I believe in soulmates, do you? If you don’t you should. To prove my point, I have thoughtfully assembled two case studies for your consideration:

Case in Point #1: My Childrens’ Pediatrician, Dr. Black and his wife

A few years ago, I was searching for a physical therapist on my health provider’s web page. After identifying several therapists and reading through their online bios that not only listed their accreditations and experience but also random information about personal interests and hobbies, I thought it might be fun to see what our Pediatrician, Dr. Black had on his page.

Oh. My. Hell. It was a treat.

In an instant, I knew exactly when and where Dr. Black attended medical school and where he completed his residency. I had before me, a laundry list of medical seminars and conferences he had attended over the past 15 years. Exactly how much does one learn from a Pediatric Medicine Review held in Barbados?

But that’s not the treat part. Not at all. What I discovered about Dr. Black’s personal life had me so riveted that I could not tear myself away from his online bio for hours. Now, let me preface this by saying that, of course, I didn’t find anything the least bit illicit or even a tad risqué about the good doctor, nor did I expect to. I’m just one of those people that are easily entertained by online personal hobby lists or Youtube videos of people on getting hit in the chach.

It seems when Dr. Black isn’t in the office he is exploring his love of world sausages, with a particular interest in Ethiopian meats. These are words I thought I’d never see arranged this way in a sentence. His bio even mentions how he met his wife while touring a world-famous sausage plant in Berlin. It was shortly after this chance meeting that they discovered a shared fondness for Italian bread making, tandem bicycling and bird watching. Also unbeknownst to them at the time, prior to meeting one another, they had each volunteered for the Peace Corps and each had served as equipment handlers/operators on separate legs of a Paul Simon tour across the US.

Can you believe this? I TOTALLY CAN. I imagine both of them on that fated factory tour in Germany so many years ago. For a good portion of the tour, they have been giving each other sideways glances. Perhaps the strapping medical student on holiday in Europe even tries to make small talk with his future wife by cracking a sausage joke. It could happen. I bet Dr. Black has an arsenal of sausage jokes.

Suddenly there’s a chance encounter at the Bratworst tasting station. Their hands accidentally touch as they both reach for the same sample of meat on a stick. More heated glances are exchanged between the two until Future Mrs. Dr. Black casually mentions she’s late for an Italian Bread Festival where Paul Simon is scheduled to perform. She has to quickly be on her way if she’s going to make the first set because, as fate would have it, she has no partner to help pedal her bicycle built for two. Cue swelling, romantic music now!

If meeting at a sausage factory isn’t destiny folks, then I don’t know what is.

Oh, you should all know too, that when I see Dr. Black for a well-baby visits and whatnot, I try to work in key word phrases like, “Thanks for squeezing us in, Dr. Black. I’m off to find myself a nice Toscana loaf!” just to see if he has any reaction to me whatsoever.

Okay, I’m not really that obvious, but I have dropped subtle hints about how much better Paul Simon is sounding without that fuzzy Garfunkle harshing his sound. Our doctor is probably confused as to why I’m obsessed with the infamous 60’s duo.

Case in Point #2: Sigfried & Roy

Aw, come on. Two lion tamers? From Germany? With a penchant for magic and dressing like Liberace? Definitely soulmates.