Resthome levity: Room name.

Last month at the resthome, I was assisting the one resident who moves slowly to a doctor's appointment in this one little medical room at the back of the building, and then while we were waiting outside the door to go in, the one (Japanese) resident who lives at the resthome and my one (Tibetan) coworker with an inappropriate sense of humor came outside to wait, too.

"Outpatient therapy room," the one (Japanese) resident read off of a sign by the door, and you could tell that she was confused by that phrase.

"I think the room is for physical therapy," I was like, "Not therapists."

 And, when I said that, you could tell that she was like, "Ahhhh..."

Then, I was like, "If it really was therapy, we would go, because we need it," and every time that I said the word "we," I pointed back and forth between myself and my one (Tibetan) coworker with an inappropriate sense of humor.

"It wouldn't work," the one (Japanese) resident was like, drily.