Friday, May 09, 2008

Sexual Harassment or Cheap Thrill?

The same two seagulls wake me every morning. It’s a mother/son team. I could set my watch to them, if I owned one. They know the second I open my eyes. Then they let off a series of ear-splitting calls, basically saying, “She’s up. She has food. I want it. Stay away!” It never bothers me. Especially not today.

I went for my echocardiogram yesterday, the first in a series of tests I will have this week on my “beat of a different drummer” heart. I was a bit worried since it's been acting strangely as of late. I rarely go to the doctor, don’t take antibiotics or other medication and self-treat almost every ailment I’ve ever had, which hasn't been many. But I do go to a heart doctor to check my irregular heart every so often.

Anyway, back to the sexual harassment. So the guy performing the echo has the same birthday as me! Same day, same year. Wild. A fellow Scorpio. Always cautiously intrigued by male Scorps. They are very sexual beings and exude it like crazy but overall, kinda snaky.

So I have this pink paper top thingie, open in the middle so he can access my chest easily. He tells me to lie down on my left side and face the wall. He reaches from behind me, with this magic marker-type thing with a metal, rolling head and cold gel on top. He places it right under my left breast and I let out a little squeal and start giggling. I totally forgot that my heart resides behind a breast!

He puts his hand on my right shoulder and says, “Relax.” Sure Scorpio Heart guy. Whatever you say. Echocardiograms – something new to add to my “Strange Things that Turn Me On” list.

He probes his thing under my breast repeatedly, all the while bracing my shoulder with his hand so I don’t move. He tells me to be prepared because I’m about to hear the sound of my beating heart. Ah, poetry.

Well, not really. It sounds gross and sloppy and big and throbbing and…I ask him if he can turn down the stereo. I don’t want to hear this tune but he can’t.

Listening to all the crazy bubbling and gurgling, I assume the worst and share it with my fellow Scorpion.

“It sounds like mitral valve regurgitation. Clearly.”

“What?!” Looks like someone has been playing on the Internet. Roll over on your back.”

Now I have two choices. Hold the little pink thingie just so, that way my breasts aren’t totally exposed. Or just let it all go, man. Go for it. Show off those cute boobs of yours. Do it!

I roll over on my back and let the pink thingie fall away. He looks in my eyes for a second and I look back as if to say, “Yep. You got a live one today. She hasn’t had sex for a while and she’s going to grab her cheap, little thrills where she can get ‘em. Probe away!”

He continues poking and prodding underneath and around my breast. The gurgling big sounds continue to play. I get used to hearing the sound of my heart. I fold my hands behind my head and relax into the whole experience. No, I wasn’t attracted to this guy. But yes, I sure like men touching my breasts. Hence why my gynecologists have been men as well. It’s a two for one deal in my opinion.

When he’s done, we smoke a cigarette…no, we don’t.

He says to me, “My dear, you have a lovely, athletic heart.”

And I almost want to cry.

“I thought so.”

“It’s just a little quirky. You still have to talk to the heart doctor but…you sound fine.”

Hmmm…you’re not a heart doctor? I start comically fantasizing that he’s some man from the psych ward on the 7th floor who put on a white coat and sauntered on in.

“I have really cute breasts, too.” I say.

No, I didn’t. But I wanted to! I was this close, I tell you. This close!

“Pleasure meeting you. Happy birthday.”

“Happy birthday to you.”

1 comment:

Jules said...

You are a very good writer!