HIPPOCRATIC OATH

Dr. J just left here a VERY unhappy camper. But it wasn't my fault...Was it?

I wasn't planning on doing anything today. I woke up around 11am. I moved my comforter and I directly from the bed, to the bathroom and finally to the couch. Classic ESPN had an Ali marathon running and the Mayweather-Mitchell fight would be on later that evening...My Saturday was pretty much planned. Then Dr. J called. He wanted to hook up before his late night shift. I agreed. He came over at about 1pm. I cooked. I was a bit cranky because I was in the thick of my monthly storm, but I figured he'd understand being that he's a doctor and all. Everything was going perfect-He only spoke during commercials and stopped when the fights came back on. After the fights were over, we waited for the Mayweather fight. We had one hour.

"Sooooo. Give me a tour of your place?"
TRANSLATION: Where's the bedroom?
"My place isn't that big. You know where the kitchen and bathroom is."
TRANSLATION: You're not getting into my bedroom.
"Is that room back there your bedroom?"
TRANSLATION: Since you want to play dumb, I'll be obvious.

I follow him to my room, going along with his game. You wanna play, Dr? Go ahead and play. I have a nice bloody trick up my sleeve.

"Nice bed." He plops on it and I remain standing. "Come join me, Chubby."

"I don't think you'd want to go there. We'd only be starting something we can't finish."
TRANSLATION: I'm on my period, you idiot. Consider this your first warning.
"I understand. Just come to bed. I'll know when to stop."
TRANSLATION: Ok, just suck my dick then.
"I'm going to go back into the living room. If you want to take a nap, just tell me when to wake you up."
TRANSLATION: This is your second and FINAL warning.

To make a long story short, we ultimately wound up in bed. I told him it was that time of the month and he claimed he "just wanted to cuddle". We start kissing, groping, massaging and all that. Dr. J's breathing starts getting heavier and heavier. He takes off his jeans. I laugh in my head thinking: You really think you're slick, sneaky Dr? Don't you know better than to challenge a woman while she's envying the fact that you're not dripping by the second?

We continue to dry hump and suddenly he lets out a loud

rrrrroooooooaaaaaarrrrrr!!!!!!

I quickly get up and see a large dark spot on my duvet cover. I couldn't believe it. There was a large pool of slim in the middle of my bed. I'm fuming.

"I think the fights about to start."
TRANSLATION: Put your jeans back on and get the hell out.
"I'm sorry. It's not big deal though. Just throw it in the washer."
TRANSLATION: That's what you get for trying to play with me.

We argue a bit and I dramatically snatch the covers off, stomp downstairs to the wash room and mumble strategically loud enough for Dr. Leaky to hear me. I stomp to my couch and wait for the fight to begin. He sits next to me and starts apologizing again. Then my hormones do the talking.

"This wouldn't have happened if you were a professional Dr. and stuck by your oath. Then I would have a clean duvet cover. You just had to get off. You could get your license taken away for this. How do you know I'm not crazy? I could be setting you up?"
TRANSLATION: Chubby is now possessed. EVACUATE NOW.

Needless to say, He left rather quickly. I guess that will be the last time I see him outside the ER....


Goodbye Dr. J (Goodbye Pork Pie Hat playing in the background).