observation

Everyday, at my new office, as I drink my first cup of coffee to get my day started, I watch out my second floor window as the parade of people arrive for their appointments in the medical building next door.

The majority seem to be the morbidly obese. They rarely come unassisted, their cars, vans especially equipped to handle their extra weight. There's also the elderly, brought in by their sons, daughters, sometimes an equally elderly spouse, steadying them as they shuffle to the door. And then, fewer by far, the moms, pulling the stroller out for a child.

Lately, there have been a few seemingly high school age girls with neck braces and casts, their dad carrying crutches, following the nurse-driven wheel chairs to the cars. I can't help but wonder, cheerleading catastrophe? Driving and texting?

Then, in striking contrast, the well suited, perfect shoes, perfect hair, perfect body weight individuals, getting out of their cars, popping the trunk and pulling out the briefcase on wheels. The pharmaceutical salesmen and women with their trunkfulls of pills and other meds that the obese, the elderly, the babies, the injured will be sent home with.

And I go get a second cup of coffee.