The dreaded GYNO Appt!

A few weeks ago I remembered that one of my penalties for being a bitchtastic woman, was the good ole fashioned crotch diggin we have to endure while the doc makes idol conversation doing so wearing a damn miners helmet.  Really?  So now you want to start a conversation?  I finally went three weeks ago, I waited because I dreaded the “ok you’re gonna feel a little pressure” and “this may pinch a bit” comments.   Mostly dreading the splayed out appearance in front of a complete stranger, but hey the blanket they give you to cover, oh I don’t know, your fucking stomach is great.  You never hear any and I mean any woman come out of those rooms and comment, how oh freakin awesome that experience was. Seriously- I’ve never heard one comment remotely close to ”I wanna do it again- and soon!”.   Anywho, So I get there and check in and take head count of the thirty people sitting in the lobby. Freaking Great, this will take like a freakin decade. The loud inconsiderate bitch young lady at the counter asks me why I am there. Oh I don’t know, I saw the cold coffee and Bill Cosby reruns and had to stop in and indulge.  “I’m here for my yearly pap”. She asks me what kind. Um, Is this a pop quiz? “A regular one I suppose”. She proceeds to let her coworker, and everyone in the lobby, know that I didn’t know what kind of pap I needed. So I look at the two girls and say “Sorry, i’m not a doctor. I just play one in bed”. I guess I was a little loud because when I turned around to grab a seat, everyone was looking at me. Shit! I hope no none had x-ray vision because they will see that my blue leopard print bra does not match my hot pink panties and if they can see, those fuckers better give me a tip. Just sayin’.  So the crotch diggin goes off without a hitch and the doctor tells me that she’s gonna leave the room so I can get dressed.  Really?  Look heifer, I was just splayed out, ankles in some cold stirrups while you had an eyelash curler jammed up my crotch and now you want to give me some private time to throw my pants back on?  After that display, who really gives a shit?  Say what you gotta say so I can get the hell outta here. Someone could have at least offered me a glass of wine. Jack Asses. It was also uncomfortable to have some lady I have never seen before, and hope I never do again, all up in my business handling the girls like they were juggling balls. I didn’t get tips for that little encounter either.  Any way, the doc comes back in and said she will call me if anything comes back suspicious. Suspicious?  Really?   Suspicious like a hooker in a pair of Manolo Blahniks? Like a man dressed in black creeping outside a window? “ No”, she states, suspicious like I would have to return for a biopsy. Geeez, now I REALLY need wine!  So I call my sister and we pretty much decide that all gyno’s are retarded because no matter what comes next, life goes on!