So as a 37 year old man who's paying for his own health insurance like a real adult, I went to have a physical from my doctor this week. My doctor, who's been my doctor since I started at SkyChefs in 2006, is an older slightly overweight man who loves golf, judging by his office decor.
This doctor is one of those older white men who try to act like they aren't older white men. You know what I mean? Like, he likes to talk, "slang" so it sounds like he is a slightly less older white man. Saying things like, "balls" and, "your thing" and, "getting hammered". He's even a little racist.
When I was diagnosed with diabetes, he was trying to explain what I could and could not eat. I mean. Like a good doctor would.
"You know, you can still have tortillas. But just have one tortilla, not four."
Oh. "Gracias, doctor."
And so judgemental! The common question to every patient is, "do you drink?".
"Yes, I do."
"How much?"
Which, there is NEVER a correct answer to. Because no matter what the answer is, you're either lying or you sound like the human version of Barney from The Simpsons. And of course, in response, I lied.
"Just on the weekends."
"How many would you say you have over the weekend?"
Which, again, there is NEVER a correct answer to. So. I lied again.
"All weekend? I guess 20?"
To which he replied with the look of a man who was just told that the shot of Fireball he just took was $8. To which I immediately realized I had made the wrong decision.
During the physical on Monday, his cell phone went off. He looked at it and said, "damn telemarketers."
"I know! Always calling at the wrong time.", I said in my best old white man accent.
"Right? My wife gets them too. Here recently, she's been getting calls and Facetimes asking if she wants to hook up! Like, the other day, she gets a call and there was some black mans face on her phone, asking if she wanted to hook up!"
Uh.
What?
I don't know how to tell you this, sir, but your wife is a hoe! I ain't NEVER had a telemarketer trying to ask for ass! What kind of websites and 900 numbers is that bitch calling that she gets dick offerings?! And "black man's face"?! Dude! We ain't friends like that! Be a professional!!
But what do I expect?? I had to have the "finger test" during this physical. Not by choice, you gaycists. Because I have issues. The whole time he was talking about it, he kept saying things like, "the dark hole" and, "coming in from the rear" and, "putting my hands on your butt". Thanks, professional. Anus will suffice.
I've never really had the best of luck with doctors of any sort.
While I was in New York, I joined Tinder. Cause that's what hoes do - they hoe out with other hoes. Swiping right and not seeing, "You've Got a Match" is incredibly disappointing but has become a VERY real thing for me on a daily basis. So when I finally got that glorious message on a very attractive person with beautiful hair and olive skin, I was pretty bloody excited. Turns out, this swipe was a dentist. We chatted and chatted and he was well spoken. Which, coming from PlentyOfFish.com, is more of an improvement than they'd even like to admit. He asked if I had a dentist in NY yet and I said no. Because let's be real - I barley had one in Texas either. But this fool was hot so... "Sign me up, Scotty!" He set me up an appointment at his office in the city. For late afternoon. I would be his last patient of the day.
Bow-chicka-bow-WOW, nigga!!
Ooooh weee!! You know my head was ALREADY at that point. Shit, I had us already naked in the streets of fucking Time Square with balloons and rainbows. Man, I was so excited, I left work early. I said, let me prepare myself. Fucking manscaping and showering and doing my hair and shit. I'm saying man, I've seen THIS porno.
I would walk into the office with only the lights of the back examination room lit. I'd say hello and he'd tell me to walk to the back. His shirt would be slightly opened and he'd apologize for being so casual, but it's been a long day. He'd already let his assistant go. I'd sit in the chair and he'd ask if I was ready for my oral exam. Haha! Mmm mmm, bitch! Fucking Marvin Gaye is on the overhead and shit and we would get. it. ON!
The reality was NOTHING like that. I went into the fully lit office with 34 other people. He cleaned my teeth, told me how bad they were, and then charged me three hundred goddamn dollars. Instead of my phone number, this fool wanted my insurance information.
#crookedface
Back in Texas as an adult, i guess I need to find a new dentist and now a new doctor. I don't like him telling me he's, "coming in from the rear". Especially when I'm only there for a flu shot.
Until next time...
This doctor is one of those older white men who try to act like they aren't older white men. You know what I mean? Like, he likes to talk, "slang" so it sounds like he is a slightly less older white man. Saying things like, "balls" and, "your thing" and, "getting hammered". He's even a little racist.
When I was diagnosed with diabetes, he was trying to explain what I could and could not eat. I mean. Like a good doctor would.
"You know, you can still have tortillas. But just have one tortilla, not four."
Oh. "Gracias, doctor."
And so judgemental! The common question to every patient is, "do you drink?".
"Yes, I do."
"How much?"
Which, there is NEVER a correct answer to. Because no matter what the answer is, you're either lying or you sound like the human version of Barney from The Simpsons. And of course, in response, I lied.
"Just on the weekends."
"How many would you say you have over the weekend?"
Which, again, there is NEVER a correct answer to. So. I lied again.
"All weekend? I guess 20?"
To which he replied with the look of a man who was just told that the shot of Fireball he just took was $8. To which I immediately realized I had made the wrong decision.
During the physical on Monday, his cell phone went off. He looked at it and said, "damn telemarketers."
"I know! Always calling at the wrong time.", I said in my best old white man accent.
"Right? My wife gets them too. Here recently, she's been getting calls and Facetimes asking if she wants to hook up! Like, the other day, she gets a call and there was some black mans face on her phone, asking if she wanted to hook up!"
Uh.
What?
I don't know how to tell you this, sir, but your wife is a hoe! I ain't NEVER had a telemarketer trying to ask for ass! What kind of websites and 900 numbers is that bitch calling that she gets dick offerings?! And "black man's face"?! Dude! We ain't friends like that! Be a professional!!
But what do I expect?? I had to have the "finger test" during this physical. Not by choice, you gaycists. Because I have issues. The whole time he was talking about it, he kept saying things like, "the dark hole" and, "coming in from the rear" and, "putting my hands on your butt". Thanks, professional. Anus will suffice.
I've never really had the best of luck with doctors of any sort.
While I was in New York, I joined Tinder. Cause that's what hoes do - they hoe out with other hoes. Swiping right and not seeing, "You've Got a Match" is incredibly disappointing but has become a VERY real thing for me on a daily basis. So when I finally got that glorious message on a very attractive person with beautiful hair and olive skin, I was pretty bloody excited. Turns out, this swipe was a dentist. We chatted and chatted and he was well spoken. Which, coming from PlentyOfFish.com, is more of an improvement than they'd even like to admit. He asked if I had a dentist in NY yet and I said no. Because let's be real - I barley had one in Texas either. But this fool was hot so... "Sign me up, Scotty!" He set me up an appointment at his office in the city. For late afternoon. I would be his last patient of the day.
Bow-chicka-bow-WOW, nigga!!
Ooooh weee!! You know my head was ALREADY at that point. Shit, I had us already naked in the streets of fucking Time Square with balloons and rainbows. Man, I was so excited, I left work early. I said, let me prepare myself. Fucking manscaping and showering and doing my hair and shit. I'm saying man, I've seen THIS porno.
I would walk into the office with only the lights of the back examination room lit. I'd say hello and he'd tell me to walk to the back. His shirt would be slightly opened and he'd apologize for being so casual, but it's been a long day. He'd already let his assistant go. I'd sit in the chair and he'd ask if I was ready for my oral exam. Haha! Mmm mmm, bitch! Fucking Marvin Gaye is on the overhead and shit and we would get. it. ON!
The reality was NOTHING like that. I went into the fully lit office with 34 other people. He cleaned my teeth, told me how bad they were, and then charged me three hundred goddamn dollars. Instead of my phone number, this fool wanted my insurance information.
#crookedface
Back in Texas as an adult, i guess I need to find a new dentist and now a new doctor. I don't like him telling me he's, "coming in from the rear". Especially when I'm only there for a flu shot.
Until next time...
