Doctor Doctor!

Today's marketing effort involved contacting a few doctor's offices to see if they would let me display my work. The hope being that it would send people to my site and possibly bring in clients; portraits, weddings or otherwise.

When I did a search for pediatricians in Wakefield, only one came-up, so I gave them a call. I gave the receptionist my schpeal, and she told me in a very unamused tone, "Well, this is a shared office, so you'll have to contact the other doctor."
"Oh, ok" I said.
"His name's Dr. Cohen and he'll be in tomorrow."
"As in...Sol Cohen?" I asked, intrigued.
"Yes, that's him," she answered, still in monotone.
"He was totally my pediatrician!" I said, astonished. Dr. Cohen had stitched-up my lip 31 years ago when I was centrifugally forced off a Sit-and-Spin in day care. The dude's gotta be pushing ninety at this point. I'm hoping he remembers me. If he doesn't remember me, he's likely to remember my Mom, who brought her blood-curdling screaming two-year-old into his private practice, through a waiting room full of Moms and their children, and pleaded with him to stitch me up because she'd heard he was the best at it and that his work would not leave a scar on the face of her precious little blood spurting kid. It worked, and she was right, because today I couldn't show you where my lip was split if you paid me to tell you.