More with Mort

 

Those of you who have read my posts regarding my friend Mort, are very well aware of his eccentric behavior. Well, here we go again. I promise this, you won’t be disappointed.

I woke up to a beautiful, bright morning, and had just settled down to a strong cup of coffee, when the door flew open, and, you guessed it, Mort burst through it, and he looked mighty angry.  (Before going any further, you’re probably asking why the door was unlocked. I do it for Mort’s benefit. You see, he doesn’t believe in ringing doorbells, for he thinks that these contraptions are owned by the telephone company.  His take is this. Every time you ring a door bell, the telephone company makes a ton of money.  Well. That’s Mort).

As I sat there, wondering what would come out of his mouth, I asked him to relax, settle down, and to tell me why he looked so angry. He began to open his mouth, but before he could speak,, I stopped him, and said, “Mort, I know you have a “Great Story” to tell me, but before you start, let me take care of something I have to do. Sit down on your favorite chair, and don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”  I went the kitchen, got me two aspirins, swallowed them without any water, and prepared myself for the impending headache that was about to attack me. I returned to the living room, and asked Mort to tell me what had happened.

He began by asking what I thought was a dumb question. “What is my name?”  I said, “Mort, of course.” Why do you ask?”  “How  long have you known me, and have I ever used another name?” he asked. “Well,” I responded. “I have known you forever. You know that. What kind of a dumb question is that?” Mort looked at me long and hard, and if looks could kill, I would have died right then and there. He got up from the chair, walked around, sat down, got up again and produced what appeared to be a legal document.

He took a deep breath, and in a very loud, and angry tone, began his rant. “The government wants to change my name. This piece of paper proves it.” “What in the world are you talking about? I asked. Why would they want to change your name?” I became somewhat concerned, as I have never seen him this upset. “Listen, Mort, they can’t change your name at all. You are the only one who can do this. I know that for a fact!”  Mort looked at me, somewhat mortified, and stated, “You are wrong this time, my friend. They will change it, and I don’t know what to do about it. You need to help me here! I have been Mort all my life. It’s the name my parents gave me. Who gives these people the right to change my name?”

“Let see that paper, Mort. Let me see what is says.” He handed it to me, and as I read through it, I started laughing uncontrollably.  He just stared at me with a dumbfounded look on his face, and asked, “Why are you laughing, when my life hangs on the balance?” “Mort, I said, show me where it says that your name will be changed.” He grabbed the paper from me and pointed to a specific paragraph.

“Ok, Mr. smarty pants. Read this sentence here.” I read it out loud, and it said, “You are being Sued.” “Well, he asked, what do you have to say now? I don’t want them to change my name to Sue. I don’t want that stupid name. I have always been Mort, and no one is going to call me something else. Would you like your name to be changed?”  “Of course not, I replied, but they aren’t changing yours.” “What do you mean they are not? he asked. It says right there, that I am going to be Sue!”  “Mort, relax, I said. No one is changing your name. You are being taken to court by the person listed on this piece of paper, That’s why it says, you are being Sued, not Sue. “   “Well, he said. Why didn’t they say that from the start, instead of telling me that they were going to change my name.”   “Mort, I said, go home, open your dictionary, and look up the word, Sue. Hopefully you’ll get it.”

He got up from the chair, and as he was leaving, I heard him muttered under his breath, “No one will ever change my name.” I got up also, closed the door behind him, and promised myself that I would never go through another one of these hellish moments. Of course, I will go through another episode again. Mort can’t help himself, and besides, he is my friend. However, thank God for Aspirins!

 

Registered with the Writers Guild of America, west, Inc. # 8119522

Copyight by Dr. Johnny E. Velazquez: © All rights reserved.

 

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