Analyyyzer 310.3

Analyyyzer

\ANAL-why?why?why?-zer\
noun
Meaning

: an adult that consistently responds to any statement or explanation by asking, "But, why?"; one who convinces him/herself that they are looking for information when in reality they want to stay focused on the problem; a major irritant to sponsors and other mentors


Okay, here is what happened: I have a little back trouble and sometimes I have to go to physical therapy at the Orthopaedic Clinic. There are all kinds of doctors and offices at the clinic designed to meet every and any of your muscular and skeletal needs. I have to be very desperate to visit the therapy department; those people like to inflict pain through exercise and contortion, though I feel much better afterward.

I was driving up and down the rows in the parking lot, looking for a space. I saw one and zoomed in. The vehicle parked nose to nose with mine is one of my favorite cars. Sleek and shiny with a touch of chrome and very tinted windows. This one in particular had somebody on crutches leaning into the back seat trying to gather a collection of personal items.

Since I'm a helpful sort of person, plus I'm in no hurry to suffer the torture awaiting me, I offer my assistance to the obviously struggling person of crutches. This wasn't really a random act of kindness. It was more of a random act of procrastination, but at least it looked like I was being kind.

Turns out I knew the woman. She was a fellow member of the recovery program ETA and we had been to several meetings together in the past, though not so much recently. Her name is, for the purposes of this post, Barbie.

Although I knew Barbie long before I coined the word analyyyzer, she fits the definition wonderfully. By the time I'd gone to three meetings with her I was calling her Barbie Anal to differentiate her from all the other Barbies in ETA. Nobody ever asked me to whom I was referring, so there you go. Her, umm, retention disorder is rather pronounced.

As frustrating as I tend to find analyyyzers in general, I find Barbie charming for some reason. I also find her dedication to analyyyzation comical. How she feels about me has never been discussed, but I can guarantee you that she's given it a lot of thought. She gives everything a lot of thought.

We once went to a business meeting together, where they handed out a very detailed agenda, and she took notes on the agenda! When I asked her why she was writing down the information that was before us, in print no less, she told me she wanted to be sure there weren't any mistakes! Can you believe this? I just stared at her. Well, I stared until I started laughing aloud and she told me to shut up so she could hear. After that I sat in awe of her note taking willingness and ability. I was probably thanking the old HP that I was not that sick.

A few weeks earlier, Barbie had broken her knee cap or some such thing and was in a cast from her ankle on up. I offered to help her with her things. She looked me over long enough to let me know that she hadn't forgotten how disrespectful I can be and then reluctantly passed a bag and binder over. I knew what the binder was for: She probably had every word the doctor had ever spoken to her documented. Probably in triplicate. But what was the bag for? I could see through the plastic it held something flowery.

"My Easter outfit.", is what she told me. But why bring your clothes into the doctor's office with you? Why not just leave them in the car?

"I'm getting my cast changed today and I want to select a color that goes well with the dress I will be wearing for Easter." She said this with a straight face. She really wanted to have a cast that matched her outfit! Who ever heard of such a thing? Well, who besides another analyyyzer. Suddenly, I remembered why I find her comical. I was on the verge of laughing when she shot me a glance filled with warning against such behavior.

"Easter is the biggest church day of the year and it is important to look your best." She said, rather sharply, as though that explained everything. It certainly put me in my place. I helped her get settled in the waiting room and got out of there.

What is it with these analyyyzer people? Don't their brains ever get tired? It's obvious their brains misfire, so I'm surprised we can't smell the insulation of their wiring melting. On the way to my own appointment, I once again found myself thankful that I have never been that sick.
I hope I never become that sick, either.

Have a good and sober day.