When I went to the doctor for my kidney stone, I ended up seeing a new doctor, as my normal one was busy and/or out. The woman I saw I liked a lot. This is probably good and perhaps even obvious by the end of my visit:

Because I was peeing blood, she had to rule out STD weirdness. She asked if I slept with men or women. I flustered myself when I had to stop and consider the question. Then I laughed at myself for being flustered. She took it in stride; I was embarrassed. Though I realized that “Do you have sex with men or women?” is not a question I have answered often. And I did want to answer it correctly.

After that, she said she wanted to check out my junk, just to make sure things were good. She asked me to wait to drop my pants until she had her gloves on — she stated she likes to not make people be undressed any longer than necessary. She gave the word and I dropped trou.

She gasped.

No, I’m kidding. She said, “Being a doctor is weird. You come in, shake hands and then ask someone to take their pants off.”

I bit my tongue, avoiding the response, “That’s a lot like prostitution actually.” I’m almost sorry I didn’t say it, though given the situation and the reason my pants were down to begin with, it’s probably for the best.

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