I Need a Muzzle

It’s time for yet another installment of “The Peeps at the Vaginalyzer’s Office Have No Idea How to Handle Me”:

Me (writing name on sign-in sheet):  I’m here and I brought my vagina!

Clueless Receptionist:  Pardon me?

Nurse:  Hey crazy, how you feeling?

Me:  Like I need a margarita.

Clueless Receptionist:  It’s kind of early for a drink, isn’t it?  It’s only 10:30.

Nurse:  Well, that…and she’s pregnant.

Me:  So THAT’s why I have an appointment with a OBGYN!  Really the pregnant thing was my greater deterrent.  Lord knows I’d normally be through a fifth of vodka this time of day.

Clueless Receptionist:  *blink, blink*

Rocco (whispering):  Oh Jesus.

Nurse:  You don’t have that much longer until you can have a drink every now and again, girl.

Clueless Receptionist (flips through chart):  Actually, you have quite some time before you can drink.

Nurse:  Well, just until the child finishes developing.  You know…

Me:  So like, when the kid is 35?

Don’t even get me started on just how well the doctor received my pee jug jokes…


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43 thoughts on “I Need a Muzzle

  1. Hah! I can’t wait to hear how the day care providers respond when you tell them that Lil’ Bugginword prefers her martini’s on the dry side.

      1. Oh my…senior trip to Panama City Beach, my first real drunk was on SoCo. I haven’t had a sip since. I moved on to JD.

      2. That’s a good starter booze. I’ve found you’ve got to get the toddlers slowly acclimate to the sweet stuff, before you ween them onto pure homemade Corn Whiskey.

        What? It’s 100% organic!

  2. I don’t know which is better: traumatizing a clueless person or having one who plays along. I’m gonna go with traumatizing because I find the suffering of clueless people funny.

  3. Some of my warmest memories are of chit chatting about which beachside resorts to visit in Mexico with my Ob/Gyn while he was wrist deep in my lady bits. Fun.

    1. Wait, because I can’t construct a sentence it sounds like i’m planning a romantic getaway with my doctor while he fists me.
      I’m a walking nightmare.

      1. ….an arsenal of doom. You kill conversation as you walk into the room. You’re a three line whip. You’re the sort of thing they ban. You’re a walking disaster. You’re the demolition man. Ba dum bum, ba dum bum, ba dum bum bum bum!

        1. Okay, the little Elly/Duff song exchange just actually turned me on.

          Can we three make out, por favor?

          Err…maybe after Elly shoots the alien out of her vag.

          Four’s a crowd and all.

          – B x

  4. You should go on a stand-up comedy vagina tour of all the ob/gyns in the area until you find a more receptive crowd. If they can’t catch your jokes, are they really trustworthy to catch your baby? Hmmm?

  5. I think I’ve met that clueless/humourless receptionist. Everywhere.
    P.S. Your post reminds me of Chelle’s post about visiting the doctor’s office with her kids when they encountered condoms. Awkward hilarity ensued. Check it out.

    1. I would go to medical school just for the chance to get down there and say ” oh god, THAT is what it looks like full on?!?!”

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