Nothing but a tiny, little, gross, pain in the…

OKAY, remember I warned you about the real me…

 

I was 25, maybe not quite yet even, and he was in love with me. A 39 year old doctor who’d recently divorced, had weird interpersonal skills and would soon prove that he was a stalker in a very real sense of the word.  It’s a long winded story about what Charlie hoped would be a romance, I will spare myself the walk down memory lane and you the mildly comedic but mostly boring yarn.  Suffice it to say that I met him in his office while there for a dog bite of all things. (tetanus vaccine and wound therapy with antibiotics…it had been three days since the bite incident and it was getting worse, not better)

 

I am quite charming but the reality was that I did nothing to provoke him except not be a bitch to him and I am sure he was in dire need of a woman being nice to him by the end of his marriage. In him I saw a mild mannered, easy going friend. In me he saw a (very young) damsel in distress, naive to the ways of the world and pliable to his whims…he hoped. In the exam room he seemed enchanted that I knew anything regarding medicine and asked me out to…OH Yeah…wasn’t going to bore you…anyway.

 

Though I had intended it as a non-romantic friendship, Doctor Charlie always seemed to exploit into something perverted or at least, overly hopeful.  Understand Charlie was cute in his own way. He had dark hair and blue eyes and a ready smile. He had a nice singing voice and was always asking me to go dancing. He loved science and medicine, I admit it’s kryptonite for me…anything to do with medicine or science is pretty cool shit in my book.  Ultimately that is a pretty short list of “pros” when the “cons” list went something like this:

 

  • creepy interpersonal skills
  • flashed me his boner while my kids were in the next room…and we WERE NOT even dating
  • asked creepy questions about my sex life
  • alluded to being able to get me high…not a user…not interested…though I do come across all “one love-ish” sometimes.
  • told me his sexual fantasies…again…NOT DATING…don’t care…
  • flashed me his boner (in his pants…mostly) while I was at work!
  • Came to my work…hello…NOT DATING
  • Way too old for my 25 year old self
  • physically…well I think he was 5’ 8”… weighed in around 140. I am just under 5’ 7½ “ and he only had ten or fifteen pounds on me. He was tiny. When would I wear my killer heels and how was he going to fulfill my sexual fantasies…especially since they didn’t include him…

 

On top of all that he would sit out on the road, in front of my townhouse, in his car and call me trying to have phone-sex. He would ask if I was in my nightgown then describe what he could see through my windows, tell me things he was doing to himself…ew! And he always knew when my two little kids were in bed… double ew! If I elected to not answer the phone he would leave obscene messages on the answering machine. Interestingly enough I attribute this to my utter disdain for answering the phone or checking messages to this very day. (truth)

 

Just a tiny, annoying, gross little man who didn’t know when to go away…

 

Now fast forward a decade or so. I have four children and the youngest is somewhere between one and two.  I am at the doctors and she has me laying on my side, naked and curled into a fetal position her butt is in my face and my naked butt is in her face. (Oh the horror.) Yeah, she is beautiful and nothing on her body has yet faced the challenge of age or childbirth and I kinda hate her…except she is being so so damned nice…while examining my hind quarters. This is the final coup de gras for me. My life is over, not to mention that my ass is hurting so unbelievably bad! It has to be colon cancer, I am sure of it.

 

When she finally comes up for air she announces that it’s not cancer, not a tumor, (thank god) just a tiny little hemorrhoid. Not even that big, just really angry and really red, and in a really really sensitive spot. (no joke) She is tucking my blue paper gown around my naked rear and helping me sit up. Then telling me all the ways I can get rid of said tiny, angry roid when she sees a smile come over me. She stops, sits down on her little rolly stool and asks what is so funny.

 

Then I tell her the name I will give my huge pain in the ass: Charlie.

 

And I tell her the story of another huge pain in my ass I once knew who was teenie tiny but took forever to go away!

You know what? If we can’t laugh at ourselves than all is lost. Some days just stink and there’s no way around them, laugh.

 

The End.

 

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