Drink to That

“Is this Dr. Freedman?” The voice was that of a middle-aged woman from Brooklyn with a nervous edge.

“I certainly hope so,” I answered as I skipped through the Old City, having finished my morning chavrusa, making my way to the office for afternoon appointments.  “What can I do for you today?”

“Which Dr. Freedman?”

“The one who answered the phone number that you dialed,” I responded, trying to alleviate her anxiety with a bit of humor.

“Oh. Well, you see, there are so many of you and I need to make sure you’re the right one.”