When worlds collide

Every morning my radiation technicians, clad in long white coats and medical gear, set me up on the machine and mutter numbers and instructions to each other over my naked chest:
"Gimme a line."
"4.6 minus where we started..."
"Twist him just a bit."
"About half a line."
"4.2?"
"Yeah, 4.2."
"Alright, let's go."
They're very serious, but also quite nice.
Anyway, Susan and B and I were in Target last week and ran into Radiation Technician E. Not only was E not wearing her lab coat, but she was purchasing a bikini.
I now know what my students felt like when they would run into me at the mall. Although to be fair, I've hardly ever been seen buying a bikini.

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