When Worlds Collide

O-ho-ho-ho-kay.

Who needs fiction when you can take a gander at my goosey non.

Because I’m not sure anyone is creative enough to make this shit up.

First of all - Theater, meet Ob/Gyn. Ob/Gyn, meet Theater.

Secondly - I have heard of doctor/patient confidentiality. But is there a similar code for patient/doctor confidentiality?

And C - Will Swenson,* I’m so sorry for what is about to commence.

I had an appointment today at the coochie doc—just an annual** to check on the state of the tumbleweed in my sahoohoo. (Do I share too much?)

All was fine in the saddle and we were trotting along nicely when all of a sudden (just around the boob spot check) we broke into full gallop.

He saw "Priscilla."

Seems he’s a fan of Bette’s, attended the extravaganza and LOVED it. (MWJM, 70s.) He was even seated next to a politica, who posed the question, “Are all the men in the show gay?”

TiZ - “Well, I don’t know about the other guys, but Will Swenson is definitely not.”

And that was the end of any semblance of professionalism, barrier or sanity. Just me and my Docteur de HooHoo reveling over the glory that is Will Swenson.

I was pretty much naked.

As we segued to “Hair,” (Will, he had no idea you were the same guy. Kudos to you. And he was thrilled to hear you are lovely.), he realized he’d left another patient hanging and excused himself.

I dressed, sat myself in his office, and the festival of love soon continued. After he politely asked me to close the door, we sang both “Masturbation” and “Black Boys are Delicious.”*** He momentarily segued to “Threepenny Opera” (My doctor is quite gifted.) and then…back to “Hair” with help from the cast album on his iPhone.

There was a slight detour on the hospital network computer to Google Will. Much was learned thanks to Wikipedia.

Thanks, Wikipedia.

If you’re looking for a feast for the eye, Google Image “Nick Adams.”

TiZ – “To answer the politica’s question, I think HE’S gay.”

Doc – “Ya think so?”

Thanks, Google Image

Then the obligatory phonecall to his wife where “All Things Will” are discussed.

Finally, close to an hour later, we’re back on the subject of little ol’ me. I know, I KNOW, my friends, you’ve spent the entirety of this blahg post worrying about the state of my sahoohoo.

It’s quite healthy, thank you.

But the rest of my life? Just a little bit off.

TiZzy…Queen of the Desert.

* Yes. I know TiZ and AsS was declared a “name-free” zone, but Will’s name is imperative for humor and understanding. This will never be Page 6. Instead let’s call it, “TiZandAsS Post, Page Sex.”

** Way close to anal, right?

*** We actually sing most every visit. It’s our thing. Don’t judge.