“Here, fill out these papers and let me have your insurance card, so that I can make a copy.”
“Oh, sure…” I said, to the receptionist on the other side of the counter at my ‘new’ chiropractor’s office.
“Is it Debbie? Or Debra? Or Deb? What do you like to be called?”
“I like to be called in as soon as possible actually…Just call me, Deb.” I said, sarcastically. The two women behind the counter started chuckling. I walked over to my seat, sat down and began to fill in the information that was needed.
As I looked around this Zen-like office, I notice that other services are provided here. Huge letters read backwards on the window, “Chiropractic Care, Reflexology, Kinesiology, Massage Therapy, Homeopathic Remedies, and Acupuncture.” I was still looking for Voodoo and psychic available if need be.
“Oh my dauwta’ says I look like a gypsy becawz’ of this dress I’m wearing.” The one receptionist says to the other.
“Well it’s just lovely, Sue. I really think it’s pretty.”
“Eight dallas’ at Kohl’s! Can you buleeeeaave it?” She says, with her heavy Brooklyn/Staten Island accent.
“Deb? May I ask you a few questions real quick?” The receptionist asks.
“Oh yeah, sure…”
“Date of birth?”
“You’re daytime phone number?”
“Are you married, Deb?”
“Umm…no.” I said, as if I had to think about that question. I guess I squirmed out of that awkward ‘outing myself at the doc’s office’ deal.
“Who should we call for an emergency?”
“What relation is she to you?” She asked, as if she didn’t already know that we had the same phone numbers.
“Err, umm……she is, umm, my partner—my girlfriend.” I said, not taking my eyes off her ‘oh she can get any man she wants’ look.
Great. Another episode of outing myself at the doc’s office, and strange glances peering out of the reception box. Were they strange? Or were they intrigued? These women were more like ‘older hens’ who probably had ten kids, married a few times, and still trying to maintain that ~spunk~… They were cute. I was enjoying their frivolous conversation.
The doctor calls me in. I try lifting myself off the chair like a ninety year old with arthritis and make my way to his small office.
“Hi Deb! I’m Erick.” He says, reaching for my hand. It was obvious the nurse gave him a little note that said, 'Call her ‘Deb’. Nice personal touch, but a bit much.
“Here, sit down and let me take a look at what’s going on here.” He says, as he points to the neat looking chiropractic/massage table.
Could it be?
Did God answer my questions?
Guess what's on the table?...
This place looked clean, smelled clean, and I was a happy camper. I even noticed the alcohol wipes nearby. For me, this was like seeing angels. Come on, flu season is among us and you wouldn’t think the same thing? It’s not just my OCD wackiness; it’s life or death situation here folks.
After analyzing me for quite some time, twisting and turning my body in different ways (shut up guys) --- he figures out that my left leg is two inches shorter than my right. Oh that’s attractive... He said it must be from standing on one side for too long behind the bar, putting all my weight towards my right leg—enabling the muscles to lift up, and manipulate my bone structure.
“Not only am I giving you a prescription for x-rays, but I am going to put a machine on you that has electric currents in it, to help straighten out your muscles. It’s called a TENS machine.”
“Electric currents? Can I have a heart attack or something by this thing?” I ask like a moron.
“No!!!” He said, laughing at my stupidity. He placed me on the table on my stomach, and placed the electro thingies on my back, as well as my butt. No, nothing in the front….get your minds out of the gutters! Then he placed about five huge water blankets on me—no lie, about five of them. They were heating pads of some sort. I was hot already, from it being so warm outside—and this thing was going to make me sweat bullets…ugh.
Then the machine goes on, and I nodded off to sleep. It took ONE minute for me to nod off. He only put the machine on for ten minutes, but it felt like thirty seconds. The electric currents felt like someone massaging my back. This thing was amazing! I wanted to bring it home with me. Not only was it massaging my back, it was massaging my butt!
“Time’s up!” He said, walking back into the dimly lit room.
“Ahhhhhhhh, that felt soooo goooooooooooooood!” I said quite loudly, forgetting there were receptionists and clients in the other room. They must have been wondering what else was transpiring other than those electric currents---or where the electric pads were placed.
That’s how awful it sounded...
I get up, put my jacket on, and proceeded to walk out of the room, when I saw the nurse/massage therapist grin at me in a weird sort of perverted way. Sh*t!!! She thinks I molested the TENS machine! I’m such a pervert to these people! Not only am I gay, but I walked out with this content, ~freshly been electrocuted look~.
I have another appointment Monday. With who? The nurse... The nurse who grinned at me after she heard me yell out in bliss, “Ahhhhhhh that felt soooo goooooood!” She is going to give me a forty-five minute massage. I bet you any amount of money that they are going to book their other clients at different times, due to my loud perverted sounding mouth. Or maybe, this would bring in more business?
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