With my back problems acting up again, I spent a lot of time that summer in x-ray labs, physical therapy and Doctor Molavi’s office. The doctor’s office was far, on Keshavrz Boulevard, and only open in the afternoons. To make matters worse there were no appointments but was rather first come, first serve. The good part was that this particular doctor refused to charge any of his patients. One day as the secretary arrived and let us in we all went inside and sat in the waiting room. Other than myself there were two other ladies and an older man. We each grabbed a seat and occupied ourselves as best as we could. One lady pulled out a magazine while the other sat silently. I simply stared into space. Suddenly the old man got out of his seat. “What’s going on here? Is this a funeral or have we all just had a huge fight with each other?” We all looked up. “I don’t get it. This lady is pouting, you are pouting, this other lady is pouting. What’s the problem? Let’s see some s...