Wednesday, June 4, 2008
This Week In Awesome
I took off work last Friday to spend the day getting probed and poked and prodded and other p words (not including penetrated...gross). My plan was to hit the dentist, chiropractor, doctor, optometrist and that masseuse down the street that offers "Happy Endings." I'm kidding - she's closed on Fridays.
Me being the opposite of responsible (fun?) I waited until 3pm on Thursday to try to make all of the appointments. The receptionist at the doctor's office actually laughed at me when I asked if I could get an appointment for the next day. I didn't realize the doctor's office was like a trendy night club and I needed to call my cute girl friends to sneak me in. Now I know - and knowing is half the battle.
So I end up only getting appointments for the optometrist and chiropractor.
First is the eye doctor - who gives me the normal "Read the smallest line" jargon which I, obviously, dominate because I rule. At the end he says, "Let me put these drops in your eyes for the last test."
Seems normal. Eye drops. Optometrist. Lets do this.
Now my pupils are dilated and I am 30 minutes from home. Perfect. The last thing he says to me? "Be careful - your eyes will be sensitive to sunlight!" HA! I'm a man. Doesn't he know this? One time I fell playing softball and scraped my knee. Did I stop playing? Hell no! After I stopped crying I played the entire rest of the game. Because I am a man.
So I walk outdoors and suddenly realize how insensitive I've been to Dracula's fear of the sun all these years. That poor, poor man. I would rather watch an entire episode of "Tila Tequila" than ever have to be in the sun with dilated pupils again.
That is a lie.
The only thing I can make out in my haze is the Burger King sign down the street - what better time to eat fast food than when you can't actually see it? Supersize me! So I go through the drive through and order myself a Whopper combo. Obviously I hadn't planned ahead because I have no way of reading the amount on the dollar bills in my wallet. I know I need to give the woman $5 - and not trusting the merits of a Burger King employee, don't want to just hand her my entire stash. I hand her a single bill and wait for a response. Like so many girls I've spoken to in the past - she gave me a dirty look and repeats, "$5 please". Whoops. I throw a few more bills at her and take my change - no idea what it was and go on my way.
As I pull out I reach in the bag to get some french fries and pull out half fries / half onion rings. SCORE. How is this not on the menu? I think every stoner in the world would migrate to BK and demand more french fry / onion ring combo boxes. Get fatter faster AND more efficiently. The American Dream!
Not being able to see I have to call a friend and have her direct me, by landmark, to my chiropractor. Luckily she had creepy knowledge of every BP in Cleveland and got me there in time.
I have never had x-rays of my old-man back taken so the chiropractor decided to get a few to see if someone had actually reached in and tied every one of my muscles in a knot like I had told him.
So after everything is done he calls me in to look at the x-rays and starts explaining
Doc: Your curvature looks ok - need to straighten this up a little. Your hip is pulled out a little but nothing we can't fix. Then there's....this.
Me: What's that?
Doc: Well...you are supposed to have five vertebrae (he then counts five, stopping before the last one)
Me: So whats that (pointing at the uncounted vertebrae)
Doc: Well...it isn't exactly a vertebrae - see how it is attached to your hip here?
Me: So it is my hip bone?
Doc: Not exactly.
Me: So it is an extra vertebrae?
Doc: Kinda, it didn't fuse into a full vertebrae but it isn't your hip bone.
Me: So I'm a mutant?
Doc: Not exactly.
MY DOCTOR DID NOT DENY THAT I WAS A MUTANT. "Not exactly" implies YES but in medical terms I am too lazy to explain to you.
So I leave the chiropractor to re-enter the world as a giant dilated pupil'd mutant.
But at least I have french fry / onion ring breath.