
One brisk Tuesday morning, a fiercely independent 80-year-old lady named Martha went to the clinic because she had developed a persistent, highly irritating itch in her private area. She was determined to get to the bottom of it.
She explained her discomfort to the first doctor, who listened intently, nodded, and said, “Well, it sounds like you have crabs.”
Martha was absolutely appalled. She straightened her posture, adjusted her glasses, and informed the doctor with absolute, unshakeable certainty that it could not possibly be crabs, as she was a proud, 80-year-old virgin.
Frustrated by his lack of imagination, she sought a second opinion. The second doctor listened to her symptoms, checked his notes, and suggested, “You most likely have crabs.” Again, she firmly corrected him, her voice rising an octave: “I am an 80-year-old virgin!”
Determined to get a proper, respectful answer, she marched into the office of a third doctor. Before he could even open his mouth, she laid down the law. “Doctor, can you help me? I have this terrible itch. And before you say a single word, do not tell me it is crabs, because I am an 80-year-old virgin. It simply cannot be crabs.”
The doctor calmly smiled, gestured to the examination table, and said, “Alright, let’s have a look.”
After a brief, thorough examination, the doctor stepped back, adjusted his spectacles, and proclaimed with absolute, deadpan professional certainty:
“Ma’am, you are absolutely right. You do not have crabs. This cherry is so old, you have fruit flies.”
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