Three knocks on her door. It's a migraine from hell,give me a lift.She drives like an old woman. It takes long enough to get there, that thetiny bit...of relief I'd gotten from the last overdose of painkillers hasworn off. She gets me registered while I try to avoid the fetal position,which is looking mighty comfortable at this point.I sat in the waiting room for what felt like a month. Finally, a perkyyoung guy who also gave off that "new on the job" vibe called my name,taking me to a small. However, even as I was thinking of how to explain that to thesalesgirl who obviously couldn't understand English very well - eventhough she did speak it almost perfectly - I found myself fumbling withthe three small buttons at the back, trying in vain to fasten them."Are you ready, monsieur?" the girl asked from the other side of thecurtain, bringing me back to the reality of the situation."Actually, I..." I began, but she had already opened the curtain."Yes?" she said."Well, I..." I stammered,. More

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