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Lets get in the Wayback machine and set the dial for the summer of 1990. I'm back from college and working for my pizza & beer money, and a lady friend from high school - D - calls me up. Seems D is "late" and is panicking. No problem, I'm the knight in shining armor so I'll make some calls. I called up Planned Parenthood and asked if they could test her, they said no problem come in any time. A couple hours later I am flipping through a Sports Illustrated in the waiting room while D is in the back (presumably) pissing on a stick. The ladies at the desk are all smiles and friendliness at this point and offer me a soda while I wait.
The stick says no bun in the oven, D is relieved, and I don't get so much as a smooch on the cheek for my chivalry. Meh.
5 days later, deja vu. Another friend from high school - A - has missed her period and is panicking. Hell, I got this one in the bag and I don't even need to look the place up! I drive her over and pick up the exact same magazine and even start reading the same story I put down a week earlier.
Then I notice the stares. If looks could kill, the three women behind the counter would have roasted me alive. No offer of cold refreshment, either. When A came out (again, not pregnant) one of them pulled her aside and told her that I was a repeat offender.
The little witch threw me under the bus! I just wish she had given me some warning because I was slow to pick up on her play. She comes at me with a towering (fake) rage and a bunch of "Who the hell is she? Is she pregnant? Huh? Whats her name you son of a bitch?!" Perhaps my stunned, wide-eyed horror sold it better than anything else I could have come up with - I don't know - but we had a hell of a laugh in the parking lot. The women looked SO pleased as A whipped me out the door with her purse.
And I never got to first base with that one either!
The stick says no bun in the oven, D is relieved, and I don't get so much as a smooch on the cheek for my chivalry. Meh.
5 days later, deja vu. Another friend from high school - A - has missed her period and is panicking. Hell, I got this one in the bag and I don't even need to look the place up! I drive her over and pick up the exact same magazine and even start reading the same story I put down a week earlier.
Then I notice the stares. If looks could kill, the three women behind the counter would have roasted me alive. No offer of cold refreshment, either. When A came out (again, not pregnant) one of them pulled her aside and told her that I was a repeat offender.
The little witch threw me under the bus! I just wish she had given me some warning because I was slow to pick up on her play. She comes at me with a towering (fake) rage and a bunch of "Who the hell is she? Is she pregnant? Huh? Whats her name you son of a bitch?!" Perhaps my stunned, wide-eyed horror sold it better than anything else I could have come up with - I don't know - but we had a hell of a laugh in the parking lot. The women looked SO pleased as A whipped me out the door with her purse.
And I never got to first base with that one either!
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