Typical Day
Dr. D.D. Tucker starts his day at 5am today, like every day, downing the latest cleanse on his way to the posh Beverly Hills gym, where he's been a member since opening up his office around the corner 5 years ago. He hands a fresh stack of his business cards to the hot girl at the front desk who hands him some clean towels, and reminds her that he'll give her a 10 percent kick back on referrals. She sets the cards out on the counter and asks Dr. Tucker if he might have time for a face peel for her and some Botox refresher.
"Check with my office. The number's on the card," he says, as he heads for the locker room, thinking she should really be more concerned about her asymmetrical earlobes, but there's no telling some people.
After an hour and a half of grueling exercise, Dr. Tucker is ready to get to work.
Dr. Tucker's waiting room is hopping. His office manager, Myleen Self hands him his appointments for the day and warns him his schedule is packed. He has a few office consultations, some Botox and lip plumping sessions, then two major surgeries for the day, and whatever else might arise after that.
His first consultation is with Patient Mo Mee, a woman who has had three children and now wants a tummy tuck and breast implants so she can feel sexy once again. Dr. Tucker shows her his book of before and after photos involving both tummy tucks and implants. His work is masterful, like the Mona Lisa (except a heck of a lot more attractive—if Dr. Tucker got his hands on the Mona Lisa, she would have gotten a lot more dates).
He does a full exam of Mo Mee as he fills her in on what her recovery will be like for the nip and tuck. Any surgery can have complications and there will be bruising, pain, and swelling. But it's a small price to pay for beauty (unlike Dr. Tucker’s bill, which will be sky high).
For breast implants, Mo Mee can choose between saline or silicone funbags, in any size imaginable.
"I don'’t want to look too big," explains Mo Mee. "I mean, I want them to look real. Can you make them look real?"
"I can make them look real because they will be real. They will be your real breasts, I assure you," says Dr. Tucker.
"But they will be fake?" Mo Mee asks quizzically.
"Fake is the new real," explains Dr. Tucker. "What you call fake will still be an actual breast, with your skin and your blood running through it. It will be your breasts, but better."
"I like better."
"Who doesn't? Bigger is better. Especially once the swelling goes down. A lot of women think they want smaller, but then they like the full size they get after the operation and when it goes down, they feel deflated. I don't want you to feel deflated," he says.
"I don't want to feel deflated," she agrees.
"You come to me to feel the opposite of deflated. I assure you, Mo Mee, when I am done you will feel elated. Like a new woman."
Mo Mee eventually decides on a saline implant in a size somewhere between Katie Holmes and Angelyne. A little larger than she initially wanted, thanks to Dr. Tucker's recommendation. He feels confident that Mo Mee will walk away from his table tomorrow happy and confident. He has often felt like a psychiatrist with a scalpel. He gives Mo Mee a hug and walks into the next room to greet his next patient.
Dr. Tucker's next patient is a minor celebrity. An actor who has already had so many facelifts, he is stuck in that perpetual wide-eyed, Michael Meyers look, except with a pig nose.
His changed visage needs correction. It's costing him roles, he says, and he needs to keep up with his fifth wife who is much younger than him.
"Can you fix me, Doc? I hear you’re the best."
"Yes, I am the best, that is true," Dr. Tucker reminds himself. "If I cannot do it, it cannot be done."
"That's why I'm here," says the Pigman.
"But if you know I am the best, then why did you not come to me from the beginning? I would not have done this to you."
"Doc, I was young. I was foolish."
Dr. Tucker looks at the Pigman's chart. "It says here you are 65 years old."
The Pigman bolts from the table and grabs the chart, shushing the doctor.
"Shhh, Doc. Are you crazy?" cries the Pigman.
"No, I am not crazy. But you, I'm not so sure about. You do not shush me."
"I'm sorry but if word got out—"
"I am your Doctor. Word will not get out. Are you going to shush me again?" asks the good Doc.
"No, I promise. Can you make the nose—"
"Less snouty?"
The Pigman nods.
"We will see. If it can be done—"
"You will do it."
"If I cannot do it—"
"It cannot be done," answers the Pigman.
"Good, I am glad we understand each other."
Doctor Tucker shakes the Pigman's hand and orders his assistant to take a full set of pictures.
For the next several hours, Doctor Tucker sees patients who need nose jobs, butt implants, eye lifts, face lifts, and several more boob jobs. He also does inpatient injections to plump lips and smooth wrinkles. These appointments are quick and easy and he enjoys making so many people happy, and paying off the swimming pool on his beach house.
In the afternoon, Dr. Tucker dons his surgical scrubs and walks over to the Surgery Center, where he fixes the nose of a prominent politician's daughter as an early Bar Mitzvah present; and gives an eyebrow lift, cheek implants, a nose graft, and chin tuck to one of his wife's favorite singers.
He plays a mixture of pop songs as he creates his masterpieces, ending with Pharrell Williams Happy as he closes on each, knowing the patients will be walking out of recovery elated and full of joy once the swelling goes down.
Dr. Tucker gets home around 11 o'clock at night, exhausted but satisfied knowing he has righted some hideous wrongs and made the world a more beautiful place. He puts tickets to his wife’s favorite singer's next concert on her pillow. He kisses her sleeping lips and makes a mental note to remind her in the morning to come in for a refill.