I thought I was just going to the doctor’s office so he could check if my (REDACTED) was all (REDACTED) and stuff. Turns out, it was a life-defining moment. Not because of what the doc said, but because of what I realized in the waiting room.
What better way to understand people than to check out what type of magazine they pick up at a doctor’s office? Sure, there are tons of better ways than that, but after all those, this is the best way. On the flipside, you can use your magazine choice to project your desired image out there, to define yourself to the world.
Most of the time, the waiting room has at least one science magazine, like Science or Popular Science (which obviously makes more of an effort) or even Scientific American (for folks who have the time to chew on the complicated nitty gritty, like scientific gristle). I grab a science magazine and Boom, I’m an intellectual who’s at the doc’s to make sure my brain isn’t running too hot while working through space trajectory calculations.
This time, however, my magazine choices were more limited. Should I grab the Kiplinger and be an MBA grad perusing stock advice while waiting to see if all that stress has killed my heart yet? Or should I pick up Bon Appétit and be at the doc’s to have another colon cleansing to blast out the remnants from all that ganache and compote? Perhaps I could go with GQ and become a sophisticated metro guy (with clothes so unfashionable that they circle back around to be ironically fashionable), here at the doc to check on my calf implants. Ooh, maybe I could peruse the Fit Pregnancy because I’m a sensitive type concerned about my young pregnant wife’s marathon training / kickboxing regimen.
Or maybe I could — wait, is that Guns & Ammo? I may not know a 9mm from a 9nn, but I’m a Red-Blooded American from East Texas, so by golly, Guns & Ammo it is. I’ll leave it to you to figure out what that means.