by Bruce Corson

Created on: December 20, 2008   Last Updated: February 25, 2009

MY WORST DATE

In my single days I was having some problems that my family doc couldn't seem to figure out. I liked going to his office, though. One particular nurse always checked my vital signs; it seems she always found my pulse way too high, though I swear it dropped to normal as soon as I left the office.

I wanted to get to know this blond, blue-eyed nurse. Ann was 5'10", with slim, muscular legs that didn't seem to stop, a sense of humor and a laugh that melted me. I had been building up the courage to ask her out, and was going to get her number on my next visit.

The next visit was, unfortunately, not conducive to socializing. The doctor had decided I needed to have a sigmoidoscopic exam in his office. This was in the days before the flexible equipment used now; the old scopes were thick, rigid metal tubes. They must have been kept cold, I think, in the fridge until just before use. Most of these have since been sold off to third-world prison systems.

My day of reckoning came. I was placed face down on a table similar to an OB-GYN saddle, with my knees in the stirrups. The table was cranked to a 45-degree angle to the floor, and my posterior looked skyward.

The extreme discomfort started until my eyes crossed. After forever, the sadistic doctor finally stopped pushing. I couldn't see myself, but I imagined my fish-belly white business end, with the newly installed tube projecting to the heavens, must have looked somewhat like the Mount Palomar observatory. Oh well, he'd seen it before, I realized.

Then Nurse Ann floated into the exam room to assist Dr. Mengele with the torture. Any mystery I might have offered to her as a young studmuffin quickly evaporated. My face turned crimson, and not because my head was lower than the rest of my body.

The doctor was poking around, taking notes, filming for all I knew, when tires screeched just outside the window and we heard excited screams from the lobby. The doctor asked me not to go anywhere (right) and asked his nurse to keep me company.

Here I am. In a private room, butt in the air, and I finally had the undivided attention of the intended object of my affection. I'm not at my best.

Ann tried to help. "I know this sounds funny, but it's interesting to look inside if you forget what you're seeing." I didn't want to hear this. What do I say?

This was history's first recorded instance of use of the phrase, "So, how 'bout that Tribe?"

About the author: The writer and his understanding wife, Nurse Ann, have now been married 29 years.

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