Imagine if my commute was longer

 It's not that I'm not flattered

I enjoy seeing you and I want that to continue

and it isn't that you are too forward

it is just that I know what the future holds

you say something nice and you tell me

that you'd love it if I got more comfortable

you showed me a seat and asked me

if I wouldn't take off my shirt

there are two things you must keep in mind

and not that I've been hurt or that I'm afraid

I'll hurt you first. Not that I don't care

I do, I really do.

But anyone who asks to see me, really see me

will either be disappointed by what I am

or laugh at what little pride I have left

and that's not the basis for what I am praying will be

so, again, while I'm honored that

you would choose me, and that you

claim you accept me for who I am, I have to demure

and say that we really should get to know each other first,

Doctor.

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I was listening to a commercial for some new wonder drug that helps people who have suffered with the heartbreak of some condition resume their normal drudgery and allows them to rejoin the rat race and pray for some other cause of death. The warnings include things like "side effects include ________" and then the reminder that if you have bloody or black stools, call your doctor. I really don't think I need your permission, Fred. If I see bloody or black stools, I'm calling a doctor -- even if they aren't mine! I mean, that's pretty serious. Who ISN'T calling a doctor in that case? What do we need? A fast talking announcer who reels off side effects that include death and then a caution, "if you have any signs of death, please contact your doctor."