Dr. Goldberg,” Tony B said.
“Strangle him after I give birth,” Ann said. “Now get dressed and go get the car. I'll call the doctor and tell him we're on the way.”
It was a mid-summer night and the temperature had been in the humid 90's all week. Yet as Tony B glanced through his 10th floor bedroom window, it looked like a Key West monsoon outside. He quickly dressed, grabbed an umbrella and headed towards the front door.
“I'll meet you with the car downstairs in front of the entrance to the building,” Tony B said.
He took the elevator down to the ground floor and with a half-broken umbrella over his head, he sprinted to his car that was parked in the outdoor parking lot in front of the building.
In minutes, Tony B and Ann were on the FDR Drive heading north, in rain so hard, he could barely see ten feet in front of him. Good thing there was hardly any traffic on the road, or Tony B would have surely sideswiped another car.
He got off at the 61 st street exit, hurried up First Avenue and made a left turn at 77 th Street.
Lenox Hill Hospital was located on 77 th Street between Lexington and Park. With the rain coming down in sheets, Tony B dropped Ann off right in front of Emergency. He watched as she staggered inside, while fighting off the slanting rain. Then he sped down the block, looking for a parking spot, which on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, was remotely possible in the middle of a weekend night.
He got about fifty feet from the emergency entrance, when suddenly someone wearing a raincoat and rain hat dashed between two parked cars and ran right in front of Tony B's car. Tony B jammed on the breaks. The car slid sideways, like a jackknife, almost hitting cars on both sides of the narrow one-way street. Tony B had barely clipped the pedestrian in the side, knocking his eyeglasses off his head. The jerk stopped right in the middle of the street, staring dumbly at Tony B, as the wind blew his hat off his bald head. The man cursed Tony B, grabbed his fallen hat and glasses, and without putting either back on, he rushed into the front entrance of Lenox Hill Hospital and disappeared.
Tony B got out of the car and cursed back at the bastard. Then rather than risk getting arrested for assault on the night his child was born, he got back into his car and drove away.
After about fifteen minutes of circling the streets, Tony B finally found a spot three blocks from the hospital. By the time he hiked it back, he was soaked, angry and itching for a fight.
The nurses directed Tony B to the expectant father's waiting room, which was nothing more than a small cubicle, with a few padded arm chairs scattered about, a small black and white TV in one corner and a candy machine in another.
When Tony B sat down, he noticed the big black and white hospital clock on the wall said 3:45 am.
The television was totally useless, since all six New York TV stations had closed down for the night and would not resume broadcasting until 6am. So Tony B closed his eyes and went to sleep. He dreamed about playing ball with his new son. Teaching him the rackets. How to calculate the vig. Shylocking points. Important things like that.
Then Tony B dreamed, what if it were a girl?
He started to tremble in his sleep, when suddenly he was awakened by a shake from an ancient, fat nurse, with white hair sprouting out of a huge pimple on her chubby cheek.
“Wake up, Mr. Bentimova,” the nurse said. “The doctor has to see you immediately.”
Tony B looked at the hospital clock. It said 7 am.
Before he could wipe the cobwebs from his head, a bald-headed doctor wearing glasses walked into the room.
Tony B jumped from his chair. “It's you! You're the jerk I almost killed with my car in front of the hospital!”
Knowing full well about Tony B's reputation on the streets, the doctor feared the new father might do something reckless, like strangling the good doctor to death. Dr. Goldberg took a step back and hid warily behind
“Strangle him after I give birth,” Ann said. “Now get dressed and go get the car. I'll call the doctor and tell him we're on the way.”
It was a mid-summer night and the temperature had been in the humid 90's all week. Yet as Tony B glanced through his 10th floor bedroom window, it looked like a Key West monsoon outside. He quickly dressed, grabbed an umbrella and headed towards the front door.
“I'll meet you with the car downstairs in front of the entrance to the building,” Tony B said.
He took the elevator down to the ground floor and with a half-broken umbrella over his head, he sprinted to his car that was parked in the outdoor parking lot in front of the building.
In minutes, Tony B and Ann were on the FDR Drive heading north, in rain so hard, he could barely see ten feet in front of him. Good thing there was hardly any traffic on the road, or Tony B would have surely sideswiped another car.
He got off at the 61 st street exit, hurried up First Avenue and made a left turn at 77 th Street.
Lenox Hill Hospital was located on 77 th Street between Lexington and Park. With the rain coming down in sheets, Tony B dropped Ann off right in front of Emergency. He watched as she staggered inside, while fighting off the slanting rain. Then he sped down the block, looking for a parking spot, which on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, was remotely possible in the middle of a weekend night.
He got about fifty feet from the emergency entrance, when suddenly someone wearing a raincoat and rain hat dashed between two parked cars and ran right in front of Tony B's car. Tony B jammed on the breaks. The car slid sideways, like a jackknife, almost hitting cars on both sides of the narrow one-way street. Tony B had barely clipped the pedestrian in the side, knocking his eyeglasses off his head. The jerk stopped right in the middle of the street, staring dumbly at Tony B, as the wind blew his hat off his bald head. The man cursed Tony B, grabbed his fallen hat and glasses, and without putting either back on, he rushed into the front entrance of Lenox Hill Hospital and disappeared.
Tony B got out of the car and cursed back at the bastard. Then rather than risk getting arrested for assault on the night his child was born, he got back into his car and drove away.
After about fifteen minutes of circling the streets, Tony B finally found a spot three blocks from the hospital. By the time he hiked it back, he was soaked, angry and itching for a fight.
The nurses directed Tony B to the expectant father's waiting room, which was nothing more than a small cubicle, with a few padded arm chairs scattered about, a small black and white TV in one corner and a candy machine in another.
When Tony B sat down, he noticed the big black and white hospital clock on the wall said 3:45 am.
The television was totally useless, since all six New York TV stations had closed down for the night and would not resume broadcasting until 6am. So Tony B closed his eyes and went to sleep. He dreamed about playing ball with his new son. Teaching him the rackets. How to calculate the vig. Shylocking points. Important things like that.
Then Tony B dreamed, what if it were a girl?
He started to tremble in his sleep, when suddenly he was awakened by a shake from an ancient, fat nurse, with white hair sprouting out of a huge pimple on her chubby cheek.
“Wake up, Mr. Bentimova,” the nurse said. “The doctor has to see you immediately.”
Tony B looked at the hospital clock. It said 7 am.
Before he could wipe the cobwebs from his head, a bald-headed doctor wearing glasses walked into the room.
Tony B jumped from his chair. “It's you! You're the jerk I almost killed with my car in front of the hospital!”
Knowing full well about Tony B's reputation on the streets, the doctor feared the new father might do something reckless, like strangling the good doctor to death. Dr. Goldberg took a step back and hid warily behind
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