Practicing Medicine or Bartending Without a License

Back when I was in high school, I sometimes had to answer the phone for other family members, especially my Dad, who practiced medicine.  Anyway, one night I did so, and it was a religious brother who was teaching at another school on the line.  This is approximately what transpired:

"Hello, I'm constipated, and I need something to relieve my problem."

"Gee, my Father's not home now.  Can I take a message from you?" as I was repeatedly instructed to say.

"Well......I'm really blocked up.  Is there anything I can do?"

"I'm not sure when he'll return; but I'll be sure to give him your message."

"Well, that's not good.  Tell me, what would you do?"

This high school teacher is asking some smartass 15-year-old about relieving constipation.  It confirmed my opinion that teachers were often full of shit.  Anyway, he seemed desperate, and kept at it, so I gave him a suggestion.

"Why don't you put two jiggers of vodka in a water glass over ice, and fill the glass with prune juice!  Oh, yes.....keep on pushing!"

Which was new territory in smartassdom, as I could see.

Anyway, I was back for several hours of watching crappy westerns, the tee vee fare of the times.

My Dad returned, and I told him the Good Brother had called.  He nodded and went off to play with his radio.

Soon the Brother called, and said that my advice worked!  And apparently he was feeling no pain.  My Dad was impressed.

I guess this could be construed as a violation of the Medical Practice Act.  And I was underage for being a bartender.

I found out later that this drink is called a piledriver!