Obviously I have chronicled my terrible life and ailments including my sausage fat ankles, my fat thighs which rub together and chafe plus that time I peed merlot color after passing a kidney stone art mile 21 of the NYC Marathon.
But when I noticed some weird welt on my back, I was made to go have it checked out by some hot-shot NYC dermatologist.
I figure that at the same time (and since to co-pay was $50) I would rattle off my other issues including some weird rash on my thighs, the aforementioned chafing and some more intimate skin issues.
I'm all ready to ask the doctor about these more intimate issues when some hot nurse in a skimpy outfit parades out in front of me. Immediately I think about changing my ailments to slightly less disgusting things like athletes foot or some arm rash but alas my mind doesn't work as quickly as I prefer and there I am standing in the buff and explaining that I got a cist on my sack and jock itch.
This is where this office has it all wrong, you want the hot receptionist but when any guy gets put in front of some 26 year old co-ed and have to explain your most intimate issues he will clam up. Now it doesn't matter if you are actually interested in getting with the chick, it's the humiliation of it all and you just regress back to the 6th grade when some hot bully chick grabbed you by the sack and yanked down while yelling 'it's so tiny'.
Well there I am, completely vulnerable as I avoid eye contact while explaining the ailments.. Out of my peripheral I see her kind of disgusted as she jots down the prevalent info.
Luckily the sack-bump was a benign cist and the jock-itch is preventable but this is not exactly the way to build up a guy's fragile ego. Next time instead of explaining it, I'll just refer her to TOR.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
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