Thursday, 2 June 2016

See - hormones ruin EVERYTHING!

There are many things that are embarrassing about going to the GU clinic, seeing someone you know for instance, seeing a guy you slept with, bumping into your promiscuous Aunt perhaps...but none so embarrassing as bumping into someone you work with...in fact it gets worse for me...I bumped into one of my students...not a student that would keep your secret, but one that would probably use it to blackmail you with, one named after a cheap bottle of wine, one who isn't embarrassed about being there herself...


My tale of woe begins on a rainy Thursday afternoon, I decide to pop in to the GU clinic after work - not because I'm riddled - No. Because I am after sorting out some form of non hormonal contraception because adding hormones to my body is like adding salt to an already very large, angry and painful wound - I don't need them to be a crazy bitch, and with them I could quite happily murder someone with a nail file and be able to justify it with my estrogen levels.


Anyway as soon as I enter the building I spot her, the student I've been working with this very day...looking very pleased with herself like she's spotted a goldmine of gossip...and she's right, at her age I would have been fucking delighted to have seen a teacher in public. Let alone in the midst of an STD and pregnant teenage mecca!

She is definitely not embarrassed to be there and I definitely am.

In the 3 short steps it takes me to acknowledge her whilst trying to regain control of my face and get rid of the look of horror I SO want to pull, I grimace at her whilst silently reaching into my mind for a plethora of excuses as to why I am there, as she can't know the real one of course! Even though it's all pretty innocent it just doesn't seem innocent enough! She cannot know, that I, a 28 year old woman have actual sex! (yes...its true...I do...*Flips hair*)

So I reach the counter where I have to stand waiting for the woman at the reception desk to stop pretending she hasn't seen me, and finally as she looks up, and loudly asks 'How can I help you?'
HOW CAN I HELP YOU??!!

How the fuck do you think you can help me Susan?! I'm in the fucking GU clinic for a start! You don't even have a sign on the door for what I'm assuming isn't an inept mistake and maybe Susan just maybe, it's to give the patients a little discretion? So why, tell me why, when I walk in, giving it the textbook shifty eye glance and awkward smile would you think it's okay for me to have to tell you exactly what I'm there for?! What do you want my life story?! You want the gossip Susan?! Seriously I just want to get my vagina out (not for you Susan) and then I want to leave, and I'm 99% sure that the majority of people who are also cowering in the corners against the brutal NHS lighting are also here for the same thing, and I'm fairly certain Susan, that this is a daily occurrence so lets not dilly dally shall we, just give me a form for fucks sake so I can discreetly write down my problems and we can go from there!

Whilst my eyes are bulging at finding the strength to keep in this rhapsody of rage and stop it exploding all over Susan's forehead, my mind is rapidly forming an actual palatable excuse! Hooray! It is all so clear and simple now, - just say you're here to have your coil checked, perfect. It's a nice adult form of contraception, its plausible, It shows I am a responsible adult, who is so mature about sex that I am willing to have an actual hook placed inside my womb. Yes, I think - that is the one, she will be impressed and I will become her role model of life and I will save her with this one sentence from a life of STD's and possible teenage pregnancy.
So, my head has got it sorted but true to form, unfortunately my mouth hasn't...

And I loudly announce 'I am here for a check up..!' This short but scandalous revelation physically ricochets off the bank-esque glass (that is probably placed around the reception area to protect the office folk from what exactly?! I dunno, maybe to prevent the peril of possible airborne vocal STDs?!) and smacks everyone - including grinning student (who is positively leaning forward and [would be] taking notes by that point) in the face like it's unheard of there!

This rambunctious public declaration of possible scandal is still ringing in my ears as Susan tells me that they are now closed...and that I'll have to return tomorrow morning for yet another disastrous scenario.

Thank you Jeremy Hunt.

Now I have to walk past Chardonnay again and my brain is frazzled by this point and I mean, well it must be because it will have to be to explain why I did what I did next...

In order to try and grasp any scrap of pride or dignity that I could possibly have left,  I decided it would be a really good idea to walk past her and creepily lunge towards her and gurgle in some sort of sinister low voice and say 'It's not what it looks like!'

IT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE???!!!!

Why oh why did I say THAT?! Not only that but why did I combine it with a terrifyingly ominous voice and side swipe movement that could only instill fear and/or weirder theories of what it actually was I was in there for!

I couldn't bear to look her in the face so I stuck my chin in the air and walked out like a winner, got round the corner and started profusely sweating and swearing and headed off in pursuit of Gin and other friends to comfort me.


Yours hormonally charged

Kitty Lo

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