Sitting alone in his big house, Bill Clinton wasn't feeling well. He had been sick for a couple of weeks and couldn't figure out what was wrong. Hillary was off in Iowa campaigning and getting ready for some debate. She wasn't returning his phone calls. Bill was worried.
No, he wasn't worried about Hillary. He was worried about himself. The previous week, he had gone to his doctor for a check up. He had some x-rays, and a round of blood tests. Today, he would return to get the results. He was worried. Real worried. He wondered what Hillary might say.
Yet, he tried to look on the bright side. For one thing, there was that cute little blonde receptionist who had caught his eye last week. She was a real hottie who brought back memories of his days in the Oval Office. Assuming he got a clean bill of health from the doctor, he would hit up on her on the way out the door-maybe ask her out to dinner. Or better yet a candlelight dinner in that big empty house in Chappaqua. Great idea!
Just to be 100% safe, he switched on the TV just before he left the house. Sure enough, there was Hillary waving and screeching at some crowd in Bullsnuts, Iowa. Everything was safe.
An hour later, he arrived at the doctor's office, and sure enough, as he entered, there was that cute little blonde receptionist sitting at the front desk. She smiled at Bill and told him the doctor would be with him shortly.
Bill sat uneasily in the reception room. He was worried about the results of his tests, but also thinking of that receptionist. He cast a glance at her. She noticed him looking and smiled back at him.
After what seemed an eternity, the doctor appeared. "Bill? Come on in." Bill followed the doctor down the corridor and into his office. As Bill took a seat, the doctor said, "Bill, I've got some good news and some bad news. Which do you want first?"
Gulping hard, Bill hesitated then answered, "Give me the bad news first, Doc."
The doctor grabbed an x-ray, slapped it on the wall and turned on the light.
"It's cancer, Bill, and it's spread everywhere. I'm afraid it's inoperable."
Turning off the light, the doctor returned to his seat facing Bill across the desk. Folding his hands in front of him, he looked straight ahead at Bill while twiddling his thumbs. Bill was shocked. For a moment he couldn't speak.
Then remembering there was good news, he thought to himself, "Maybe chemotherapy will work. Maybe there is a new miracle cure the doctor wants to try."
"So tell me, Doc. What's the good news?"
The doctor leaned forward and motioned his head towards the door.
"You see that cute little blonde receptionist out front? I'm %$!#*in' her."
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