In Which I Use An American Football Metaphor To Describe My Job.

In the script factory ghetto where I often work, the amount of times I am called upon to speak to a patient who comes in for advice is, thankfully, small. This is good for me and the patients, as it means I do not have to let the invariable mountain of scripts pile up while I try and persuade someone that Lemsip is, in fact, just a pack of paracetamol in stockings and suspenders with a come-to-bed look on its face.

In short, the counter girls in the script factory ghetto mentioned above are, in American Football teams, the equivalent of a superb offensive line. (They do not weigh the same, though. In fact, adding them all up would barely give you one tackle). Having this line, or girls, or line of girls blocking for me means that I , in my quarterback role have the time, and space to assess my options.

However, in a place where there are poor counter girls, then I am quarterbacking with an offensive line that has more holes in than a Swiss cheese. I am constantly getting rushed by the defence, leading to sacks, fumbles, and turnovers. The defensive line is rushing towards me asking which one of four over-priced ponced-up paracetamol products is best for a self-limiting illness.

The quarterback falls.

The structure crumbles.

Darkness is upon us.


So to good, well-trained, counter girls everywhere, I salute you.

Now go and make me some tea.