Respect

I’ve been on call and I remember that I’ve run out of milk so, on my way home, I stop at the corner shop to get some.

A couple of local lads who look in their early to mid 30s join the queue in front of me. They’re obviously in the early stages of a night out and are being loud, not rude or aggressive, just loud. One of them clocks me, and I must have been looking as haggard as I felt because he pulls his mate aside and says

“ ‘Ere Jonno, let this geezer go first.”

I’m not in any particular hurry so I reply, “No, no, you were here first” and gesture for them to go ahead.

His mate has turned around to look at me and adds, “Nah mate, after you.”

“Thank you very much,” I say and step forward to pay for a litre of semi-skimmed.

“Thank you very much,” laughs the first bloke as he does a bad impression of my accent. “Are you a student or something?”

“No, a doctor” I say.

Immediately this bloke’s hand comes out to shake mine. “A doctor!” he exclaims and whistles gently. “What are you a G.P. then?”

“No,” I reply, “an anaesthetist.”

He enthusiastically shakes my hand again, “you guys do a great job.”

“Thank you,” I say. “Enjoy your night, fellas” I add as I turn to leave the store.

As I’m walking out a hear his mate saying, “Wow, a real doctor! Can you believe it…” and I smile to myself as I make my way home.