“Will your boss agree to wear a bomb suit?” Tony Valdez asked Bobby Goldstein. “You have to be kidding.” Goldstein, who’d been persuaded to try on an American Body Armor suit, felt like a blimp or some kind of space age monster. “Dr Ash will not agree to wear one,” Joanna King said, scathingly, “and neither will I.” “You’d be well advised to, ma’am,” Valdez said. “If I wore one of those,” King answered, “I couldn’t do my job effectively. And neither I nor Mr Goldstein will be anywhere near as close to the patient as Dr Ash.” Humbled and perspiring, Goldstein began to dismantle his suit. “Are you wearing panty hose?” Valdez asked King. “I only ask because some bombs can be set off by static electricity, and just wearing nylon can do it.” “I’ll remove my panty hose before we begin,”
