Dalliance #1:
My very HOT construction-worker patient is an avid triathlete. He kept bugging me to go for a run with him after his surgical recovery was complete, and I waffled and whined & he kept bugging me.
Finally (because I'm such a dignified mature adult) I told him that if he'd wear a fluffy pink skirt & high heels into the office that I would acquiesce.
I think his wife was more annoyed about him wrecking her shoes than his determination to get me out for a run; seemed like a bit of harmless fun (unless he fell on his surgical site, then the fucker'd probably sue me) so I went, had a few fleeting dirty thoughts, but I don't think I'll go to hell for it.
Dalliance #2:
My Gouty Romeo. EVERY YEAR for the past 8 or so the horny old goat tells me that he's probably going to die soon, this could be his last birthday and all he wants is for me to dine with him, so he can treat me like the divine goddess that I am. OK, I made the last bit up, but you get the picture. Old men and little boys are always trying to play on your sympathies to cop free feels.
Fortunately there is a restaurant on the first floor of my office building, so I can say "OK Mr. G, we can have a quick birthday drink & a snack, but Mr. Bunker is a very jealous man, so I must not do anything outrageous like put on Lycra tights and run along the lakefront with you."
I had the obligatory birthday drink, tried to make a clean escape, then he insisted that we share a cab and then tried to lay one on me in the cab. Ewwww. I don't want him to die or anything, but I think I've celebrated enough birthdays with Mr. G.
And the Really Big Night Out:
A dinner/lecture on proper coding for durable medical equipment!! Even though I was in the electrifying company of Drs. P.A. and Ginger, I still almost crashed face first into my salad. Even though our esteemed speaker has discovered some kind of soul soothing peace through proper dispensing and coding of various compression garments, his enthusiasm was not contagious enough to keep me upright & alert.
In the midst of my scandalous behavior, we have managed to hire a (seemingly perfect) medical assistant and almost commit to our new office space, about which I'm so completely excited that prolonged discussion may cause bouts of incontinence. THRILLED!
7 comments:
Dalliance #1 - Hell? I don't really think so. I may be wrong, but I think coveting someones wife is mentioned, I am not sure about coveting someone's husband, Mr. Hunky construction worker however, may have a problem.
Dalliance #2 - Sympathy always worked for me. The Saint I Am Married to is still waiting for my Boviofecal's Syndrome to rob me of my eyesight. It's only been 30 years or so. I still use it on her when I can, free feels are the best kind.
Finally, don't be surprised if your seemingly perfect medical assistant is somehow conspiring with your real estate broker to sucker you into a bad lease, counterfeit your scrip pads or both. Nothing is ever as it seems.
Have a great week.
I think I would have demanded a chaste necklace of pearls and a clutch purse. Accessories can frequently make the man.
BZ
#1 I'm jealous. shit. ooooh, that boy wants you. I just know it. Ooops did I say that out loud??
#2 Ewwwwww
I still want that job, you need to move your practice down here to SoFla.
Dear Mrs. Bunker,
Now I see why St. Christina the Astonishing is not helping you with the Emporium. She has been trampled by an entire pantheon of Greek Gods, particularly of the trickster variety. Men who look like Apollo but are willing to dress like Artemis in order to run with the Bunkerlicious. Are you abso sure he's not looking for a threesome? Don't forget Hermes was a cross-dressing satellite of Dionysos! I'd say drink and run, but . . . no . . . perhaps not.
That's not a Goat--that's Pan, piping in your ear. Or perhaps Priapus. (another satellite of Dionysos.) If he annoys you, simply withhold the Viagra prescription and put him on a diet of shredded wheat. There's more than one divine goddess out there. Nemesis, Aphrodite--one must be able to call either one At Will.
perhaps Athena sent you the medical assistant. . . . at any rate, you and Mount Olympus seem to be having one hell of a cocktail party . . .
Ann T.
Captain! the paranoia is MY thing, and I hadn't event worked that evil plot out yet. I'm positive you're right though. Everyone's up to no good, and I was probably a little lax during the interrogation/2nd interview, which she was probably recording so she can sue me over my inquiry regarding her childcare situation; it' probably illegal to ask that sort of question.
BV: you've just outed yourself as a sorority girl! SHOCKING!
Peedee: It's just cruel of you to say things about moving to Florida during the first week of February in Chicago. CRUEL.
Ann T: I certainly hadn't considered the threesome angle, but after you see a man in a skirt, I guess there is a whole world of possibilities to consider.
I guess for now I'll just keep the whole mount Olympus party theme. Between you and my daughter who is currently devouring all things mythological thanks to Percy Jackson (modern day son of Poseidon) I'm learning quite a lot about that whole crew.
Don't wanta bust your bubble but Construction Workers??? 90% of em are queerer than Ping Pong Cleats...and thats not even counting that guy from the Village People...
And straight guys wont wear a skirt and heels to get a chick, thats what rufies and ethers for...
Sure, he's "Married" so was that Governor of New Jersey who was blowing every intern in the statehouse...
You've celebrated enough birthdays with Mr G??? Why does that sound like a "Law & Order" episode?
Medical Coding Lecture? I didn't know you were into S&M...
Frank
Well crap. Upon reading your acount of the "goat" I am uncomfortably reminded of the time when I was around 19 and my boyfriend's pervy European dad invited me to be his doubles partner in a country club tennis tournament. If you have ever seen Chris Walken as "The Continental," that was this guy! The tennnis seemed innocent enough until we won the damn thing and during the trophy ceremony, he tried to kiss me, adult style, (gag!) in front of his son, my BF! They actually de-evolved into a full-on fist fight over it! Oh fun fun fun.
Thanks for the memory Mrs. Bunker. Ugh!
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