Ok, now I know a lot of you have said this, and it's true. A doctor wouldn't usually be like that to a patient. But when that particular doctor is a rich, suppressed and rigid doctor like Mark and the patient is a laid-back, fun-loving, Bohemian rock star like Roger, things can happen. And if you stay tuned, those things will most certainly happen……
Mark blinked several times, as he looked into the face of the man whom he saved just earlier that morning.
"What are you doing here?" he asked dumbly.
Roger grinned. "I work here."
"But I come here all the time. How come I've never seen you before?" said Mark with suspicion.
"Because I used to work the late night shift, but since I can't do that anymore, they switched me to the evening shift; which is a good thing, because now I'll get to see you more often." He winked expertly, causing the young doctor to blush ever so slightly. "So, what can I-"
"Hey, can you hurry the fuck up? We didn't come here to watch you hustle!" yelled a woman two heads behind Mark, dressed in a sea-green dress and black high heels and looking really angry at the delay.
"Alright fine, I will! Keep your pants on!" Roger yelled right back at her, his brow crinkling. Then he turned back to Mark, his smile returning to his face. "So, what can I get you?"
Mark, unable to stop looking at Roger in a tight, black T-shirt with the words Coffee Beenz etched onto the right breast of the shirt, stuttered, "I, um…..uh…..I'll have a...regular hazelnut latte….with skim milk, please…."
Roger punched a button in the cash register and turned around to make the drink. When he was done, he placed a plastic cover over the hot cardboard cup and handed it to Mark. The young doctor continued to stare at him. "So uh..….how much for that?"
Roger smiled. "Hey, don't worry about it. It's on the house," he whispered.
Mark raised an eyebrow and said, "But then, won't it come out of your-"
"I know," said Roger breathily. "But it's okay. Consider it a treat from me to you." He smiled warmly as he watched Mark take the hot cup from his hand. Their fingers brushed past each other momentarily and Mark could feel the heat running though his fingers and down his arms but he wasn't sure if it was form the hot coffee cup or from, well, something else. He shook his head and smiled curtly at the rugged man.
"Well then, thank you very much," he said abruptly. "Good day!" And with that, he spun on his heel and departed from the queue.
"Have a good one!" shouted Roger across the shop to him, giving him a small wave and smile before turning to the next customer. Mark exited the coffee house, but not before stealing another quick glance at his former patient behind the counter, and darted back to the office, willing the red blush to leave his face.
"What a cocky little asshole! What the fuck does he think of himself?"
Mark was having dinner with Collins when he came home at 8.00 that night. The two friends sat at the dinner table, eating a spinach and mushroom casserole that Collins had made, while Mark recounted his adventures of the day; from having Roger throw up on him, to meeting him at the coffee shop later. Collins listened with fascination.
"I mean, first throwing up on me and then acting like it was a big joke? Just where does this guy get off?" Mark huffed as he chewed on a mushroom head.
"Wow, he sounds like my kinda guy!" said Collins, giggling.
Mark shook his head. "Umm, I don't think you should try anything, Collins," he warned, tracing patterns on the plate with his fork.
Collins laughed and sipped some water. "No Mark, that's not what I meant. I just wanna meet the guy. Ya know, like over vodka and stuff. He sounds really cool. I mean, he slipped you a free coffee. Who knows, he probably likes dancing on tables and stuff." he said.
"Well, we'll see about that," said Mark. He got up and cleared his plate and fork. Collins finished his casserole, cleaned his plate and then put the remainder of it in the fridge.
"Honestly, I wish you'd just lighten up, boy. Ya know, like take a chill pill," said the professor as he settled down on the couch to read one of his philosophy journals.
Mark smiled slyly at his friend. "Thank you for the tip Socrates, but I'm perfectly happy the way I am" he said as he sat down at the table to read some medical reports.
"Look, I'm sure you are Cohen, but you need to learn to like people more. Not every person is a slob or a loser or a dimwit like you keep insisting they are. I mean, I smoke the occasional pot and I have HIV, but you still like me, don't you?"
Mark sighed and faced his friend. "Of course I do. You're an intellectual just like I am. You love reading, and philosophy and analysing the world from different angles. Even thought you're a little unconventional, I don't mind because at least you're brainy and thus, a valuable contribution to society. Unlike some others," he huffed.
Collins smiled sagely at the young doctor. "Well, thank you muchly for your kind words. But all I'm saying is, just give people a chance. You never know what they might turn out to be."
"I'll think about it," said Mark, grinning at the philosopher before turning back to the piles of paper lying in front of him.
The next day…….
Mark sat at his desk, yawning widely as he spent another late night looking at some X-rays he took of his last three patients that day. He blinked at the clock, which read 11.36 pm. He leaned back in his chair, stretched his arms, and took a sip of his lukewarm tea. Suddenly, he heard the reception bell ring. Remembering that the receptionist had left for the day, he stepped out of his office and went to attend to the customer.
"Roger?" he blinked. "What are you doing at this unearthly time?"
Roger smiled at him. "I would ask you the same thing," he replied cheekily.
"I have work to do," he replied defensively. "And you?"
"I came to pay my hospital bill," he said, taking out a chequebook from his pocket. He scribbled down the desired amount, signed his name with a smiley face in the O and handed the cheque to Mark.
"Thank you," said Mark abruptly. He then wrinkled his nose at Roger's ripped jeans, GUNS N' ROSES T-shirt and leather jacket. "Where did you just come from?" he asked disdainfully.
Roger rested an arm on the reception counter. "From a gig. I play every other night with my band the Well Hungarians. I do lead vocals and lead guitar" he said proudly.
"But I thought you worked in the coffee shop," asked Mark with confusion.
"Yeah, I do the coffee shop in the evening and then I move onto gigging straight after."
"I see," said the Jewish doctor, slowly nodding his head. "Why would somebody keep two jobs at once? I just don't understand."
"Well, maybe because that somebody might have food, heat, rent and bills to pay and one job just doesn't seem to suffice," said the rock-star matter-of-factly. Mark suddenly felt ashamed and embarrassed at his question.
"Oh I see. I'm sorry, I didn't know. I should have asked-" he blubbered, blushing furiously, but was cut off.
"Hey, don't worry about it, Doc," said Roger with a smile.
Just then, the fax machine in Mark's office starting whirring as a fax came through. Out came the first sheet, then the second, but unfortunately, the third sheet didn't make it way out fully and ended up jamming the whole fax machine.
"Oh no!" yelled Mark, rushing into his office. "Please don't conk out on me! I need this machine!" He tried to open the machine to fix it, but instead it stopped whirring and died while the paper was still halfway out. Mark gripped his hair in frustration.
"Is something wrong?" asked Roger as he cautiously entered Mark's office.
"It's my fax machine," whimpered Mark. "I was just waiting for a really important fax from the X-Ray centre but now it's just died on me."
Roger studied it for a minute, then said, "I can fix it."
Mark looked incredulously at him. "You can fix a fax machine? I doubt you can even work one," he scoffed.
The rock star grinned cheekily at him. "Of course I can. You wanna bet?" he asked.
"Ok fine," said Mark, suddenly feeling daring. "If you can't fix it, then……I will make you mop the hospital floors. For a week."
Roger chuckled. "Alright. And if I win, you will go out with me," he added, tossing his head.
The Jew stared at him, his jaw hitting the floor. "What? Are you serious?" he asked. "No way." He shook his head vigourously to affirm his sentence.
"Why not?" asked Roger. "If you don't agree, I won't fix your precious machine. It's perfectly fair. Whaddaya say?"
Mark stiffened and faced Roger. "It's a deal," he said, sticking out his hand. He and Roger shook hands, almost doubling over when he felt a slight jolt of electricity going up his arm. Roger rolled up his sleeves and got to work and within 15 minutes, the fax machine was up and running and out came the third sheet of paper, in perfect condition. Mark sighed defeatedly.
"Where did you learn how to do that?" he mumbled.
"I used to work for an office equipment supplier," said Roger as he rolled his sleeves back down. He looked at Mark, the cheeky smile gracing his face again. "So, you free Friday night?"
Mark looked back at him, the blush creeping onto his pale cheeks. "Umm, yes….yes, I am," he stammered.
"Great. I'll pick you up at 7," said Roger with a warm smile. Giving a one finger salute, he exited the hospital, leaving a very bewildered Mark wondering just what the hell happened in there. And what he was going to wear.
AAAAAAHHHHHAAAAAAAAA! Now we're getting' somewhere! –giggles-
Oh, and don't worry, the other characters will eventually come along as the story unravels. You just gotta wait.