People accuse me of exaggerating. Why should I? Truth is funnier. I cannot make up stuff thats funnier than what really happens day to day.

Yesterday was just another day in the neighborhood. You know, we were running a few minutes late. Thats understandable, as we do open at the crack of 11 a.m. Of course, when we got to the parking lot beside the office, there were five or six already-grumpy people crowded around my office door.

Suddenly, my assistant Miss Brandy exclaimed, Hey, whats this? Whoa! You gotta be kidding Allllrrriiight! Its POT!

Brandy held the large freezer bag (full of what looked like oregano) over her head for all to see. With this, the waiting patientsonce united in their disgust that they beat me to the officenow formed three distinct groups.

Group Number One, made up of church-goers and those over 50, turned up their noses and sneered. Group Two transformed before my eyes into rather hungry wolves eyeing a plump lamb. Group Three, made up of just one guy with a nose ring, patted theirI mean hiscoat pocket like he may have just lost his uh keys.

I immediately commandeered the stems, buds, seeds, baggie and all. I stated, in my most moral voice, Ill call the police!

And I did. I called the direct number for the St. Albans Police Department.

Metro 911. I always got a kick out of the way they answer Metro 911, as if were in New York City. What is your emergency?

I just found a large bag of pot uh I mean uh I found what appears to be a plant, perhaps even something akin to what is called, if I am not mistaken, marijuana, from the descriptions I have heard of this awful drug on NYPD Blue and CSI: Miami.

What?

I just found an ounce of weed.

Whose is it?

It doesnt have a name on it, unless the name is Mr. Ziplock.

Spell that.

Z-I- That was a joke. Anyway, can you send someone over to get this out of my office?

Sure, who is this?

I was tempted to give an ophthalmologists name and address, but I didnt. About 15 minutes later, one of my patients, who is a city policeman, came in and asked my wife at the front desk, Do you have some drugs?

Renee turned white as a sheet. She contemplated what it would be like to be Martha Stewarts girlfriend. She stammered, What drugs? You got it, she didnt realize I had called the cops. So, she figured shed take the rap so I could keep the office open.

The police officer/patient and I fell on the floor laughing as Renee realized she would not go to prison for possession of marijuana. Instead, she decided that she would go for murder as she looked at her victims: the cop and me.

All in all, just another day in the office. I did wonder where the pot came from. The cop says it was worth about $400, so I also wondered who was having a crappy day because he lost his stash. For a moment, I even thought about glaucoma treatment in California, and then I wondered how soon I would have called the police had I found this bag on my day off. Hmmm

Nah! I dont want to be Martha Stewarts girlfriend, nor the girlfriend of anyone named Hacksaw, either.

I guess I am just a good citizen, and thats the truth. Which is funny.