I hereby pronounce you dead (he said)

Published 2022-12-17 by Zdravko Anticic

We get a lot of e-mails from readers of this blog. Usually, it is just a comment about a recent post. Sometimes, it is complete madness. Like the e-mail from Mr. Andersson, with an unbelievable story.

We thought you had common sense and could tell the difference between entertainment and reality. It seems that you take everything we write on this page quite literally. Since we disregard political correctness, this can be a dangerous situation.

Mr. Andersson had read our story here about "nine highly unethical tips for the psychopath traveler". A satirical piece meant to put a smile on your face, not a set of instructions for your next vacation.

One of the tips was to constantly choose the option "Doctor" when booking flights or hotels. Hotels and airlines take note of your title and will often offer upgrades and other benefits at no extra cost. A Doctor is given extra respect and special treatment.

Our tip had worked like a dream. The Anderssons had magically been upgraded in all hotels and received exceptional service everywhere. He had been called Doctor Andersson and received enormous respect from everyone he met.

An ordinary double room suddenly became a junior suite almost at the top of the Burj Al-Arab. Getting a great table at a packed Michelin-starred restaurant in the harbor? No problem. The level of service had been absolutely insane.

Soon, he had drifted into being a reputable Doctor from Sweden perfectly. And, he expected the highest possible level of service wherever he and his wife went. Everything was documented with happy posts on Facebook. Life was wonderful for Doctor Andersson. Until it was time to go home. Then it became a complete mess.

Check-in at the airport had gone well. Then the Doctor and his wife had free admission to the VIP lounge. After a glass of champagne and a little snack, life became as wonderful as sitting in a glittering pink cloud.

Half an hour after the flight started, dinner was served. For dinner, the Andersson couple had chosen a Bordeaux from 2008. After four small bottles of red each, they ended the dinner with a dessert that consisted of chocolate mousse, coffee, and a double cognac. Per person. The Andersson couple was now way beyond being just slightly intoxicated and got ready to sleep the last hours of the flight to Stockholm.

Doctor Andersson leaned back in his chair and smiled. He had gotten away with being a Doctor for a whole week. Then someone tapped him on his shoulder. She was a flight attendant. Beautiful as an Indian princess. She leaned over him. Her face radiated panic.

“Doctor Andersson. We need your immediate assistance at row 38. Please follow me”

He got up and quickly followed the flight attendant in an almost pitch dark plane. Most passengers slept. When he got further back on the plane, however, the situation was completely different. No one slept. A small group of people stood up in the aisle.

“Make a hole! Doctor incoming!” shouted the flight attendant. And all of a sudden, all the focus was on him, as he pushed his way through the small group of people to place 38D.

In the seat was a young girl. She may have been 16 years old. It looked like she was asleep. But, her head had collapsed into a somewhat abnormal position. She had an airline blanket pulled up to her neck, and looked pale and sick.

The girl had been sweating profusely when she contacted the staff. Then she had become dizzy. The situation had become much worse a few minutes ago, and now she was non-responsive.

“Doctor Andersson. Please help this poor girl. Do something!”.

The flight attendant stared at him. A dozen upset passengers as well. They expected a miracle. However, this would be impossible. Doctor Andersson was not a real doctor. He was a doctor in informatics, not medicine. Databases, not people.

He was no longer in a pink could of happiness. He had deceived the whole world, and now he would be exposed, in the worst possible way. A couple of hundred passengers would hate him forever. There would probably be camera crews waiting for him in the arrivals terminal. His face would be on the news, as the fake doctor who had lied to everyone to get a free business class seat.

What would you have done in this situation? Mr. Andersson did the only thing he could do. What he had seen on TV series like Gray's Anatomy and CSI. He decided not to break character. He would be a real doctor until the bitter end.

He leaned forward to listen if the girl was breathing. Felt the pulse on the carotid artery. He made an acting effort of the century. Then he looked up. Looked at his watch, because Doctor House also used to do so, and said, in broken English:

“I hereby pronounce the passenger at seat 38D dead at 19:57 local time. I am sorry I can not do anything for her. It is very risky to party hard for weeks and consume large amounts of alcohol and then get exposed to the thin air of an airplane on long-distance flights. This can happen to anyone. I am sorry.”

The panic quickly spread around the seat of the dead girl. The passenger sitting next to her got up and immediately chose another seat. Some passengers started crying. The flight attendant pulled the blanket over the girl's head, and looked at Doctor Andersson.

“Thank you, sir. We are sorry for this inconvenience.”

Dr. Andersson took a step back. Did his best to look professional.

“This was quite an experience. Could you send two gin tonics to my seat?”

"Of course, Doctor Andersson.”

His wife had not even woken up. Happily unaware of all the drama at row 38. A moment later came two gin tonics. There was hardly any tonic in them. They were the strongest gin tonics he had ever had. A short while later he felt well again.

The atmosphere on the plane was depressing. As normal when a passenger checks out forever during a flight. They had a corpse on board. Yes, she was only 16 years old. The doctor said she drank herself to death. Poor little thing.

Dr. Andersson thought he had escaped the extremely unpleasant situation. But no. There is more. Because the girl was not dead at all. She had just fainted. And now she began to move under the blanket. Passengers nearby screamed in terror.

The flight attendant quickly came for Doctor Andersson again. Together they ran back to the girl. Dr. Andersson took off the blanket. Underneath, two awake eyes looked up. The girl was still pale, but definitely alive.

“She’s alive! Doctor Andersson! She's alive!” The flight attendant burst out with joy.

“It's a miracle! Praise the Lord!” Doctor Andersson shouted and stretched out his arms in a gesture of victory.

The passengers were ecstatic. There was applause and many got up and shook Doctor Andersson's hand on the way back to his seat. The girl had been told to eat and drink something. Doctor Andersson had ordinated her a large chocolate cake as dessert.

The rest of the trip went smoothly. Dr. Andersson could discreetly return to becoming Mr. Andersson as soon as he passed customs. He sighed in relief. Thank his lucky star that he had not created much bigger problems.

Dear reader. We completely take back our tip about selecting the title Doctor when you book hotels and flights. Promise to never do that, ever. And, please remember that some of the posts here are satirical. They are meant to entertain, not to be taken literally.

Or, you use them as instructions for a more exciting life and end up with rock star experiences that none of your grandchildren will ever believe you had.

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