Theme Song: "Cup Of Coffee" - Garbage
This morning I wake up and my crotch is on FIRE! But since it's a Friday, I hobble down to the Literacy Council so I can tutor Michelle who, by the way, is grasping English beyond my expectations. Anywho, after I'm done with her, I go back home and deal with the fact that I have syphilis. Really, I have the symptoms: fever, crotch on fire, tumor growing next to my most private of parts...
So I lotion up like I'm going on a date (since a doctor will have to examine my naked bod). I walk down to the health center and write my condition: "burning bump/lump in the crotch area." Unfortunately, the doctors only see people by appointment so I have to come back in four hours. Fine, another four hours, another 240 minutes of feeling like my crotch is set to explode at any minute. Perfect. Just magical.
Anywho, when Dr. Kinsella finally sees me, the first word I see in his office is "Herpes" (on a pamphlet). Most encouraging. I lie down on the hospital bed, eroto-strip, and let him do his job. Unfortunately, that job is poking my private parts and digging under the skin to grab my extremely tender (throbs when touched by underwear or air) lump with both fingers. I hold in my screams of agonizing pain, but seriously, it feels like someone's ripping my balls out. Even the girls should know how much that would hurt!Dr. Kinsella responds: "Wow, that is pretty sizable...and red. You know... I'm not sure what that is." Doc, that's not what I wanna hear. "It could be a node or an abscess... I'm gonna go get a second opinion." So, another man-doctor comes in and feels up my spongy places and tells me what's wrong. He says it's probably an in-grown pubic hair. Ouch. *crosses legs*
For my condition, they write me a prescription for Ciprofloxacin (Street Name: Cipro). After reading the pamphlet, I see that they also give it to girls for yeast infections. Interesting. I walk down to see my dealer at The Medicine Shoppe uptown and she gives the pills along with a nice do-it-yourself pill crusher (since I hate pills). She recommends crushing them in apple sauce or pudding (since it has many assorted flavors).
Since I'm never one to break a commitment (especially one I've been preparing for about two months), I get all dressed up and get ready to walk down to Majestic Theater to perform in the Symphony Band's Winter Concert. I make it within ten inches of the door when an unbearably sharp pain pulsates in my crotch. I collapse, helpless and in agony, alone in my pitch black, silent room.
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