No one’s ever seen that side of me before

He opened the door and called my name. I followed him down the hall to another room. He tells me to undress. Take everything off, except my panties, and slip into something more comfortable. He leaves me alone while I disrobe, following his instructions exactly.

I emerge and look to him for my next direction. He takes me to a dark room and has me lay down. He explains what’s about happen.

“You’re going to have two drinks, then we’re going to roll you around on the table and take some pictures.”

I like the way he thinks.

As I lay on the table, he feels for my hips, my pelvis. He needs to know the markers of my body. Then he leaves.

“Stop breathing,” he demands. Kinky.

*click*

“OK. Breathe.”

He comes back.

His pictures must be perfect.

Then he stands me up and leaves. Tells me to wait. Where am I going to go?

He comes back in with someone new.

“Put this in your mouth and start sucking when I tell you to,” the new man says with authority

…

Alright kids. This isn’t a porn. Stop being dirty. I totally got an upper GI done today. My tummy still doesn’t feel alright and all the punkin in the world isn’t helping. The experience wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it really helped that the technician was incredibly HOT! The “more comfortable” outfit he gave me was their finest “pull on shorts and open-in-the-back smock”. Exactly what I want to meet the man of my dreams in.

I would like the record to show that after 2 shots of barium, I still managed to almost get his number. I just couldn’t close the deal! And I was ON POINT: Joking about his being a bartender, asking if he’s local, finding out if he’s been to the “hottest spots” out here in the burbs… but nothing.

While he had no wedding ring on, I couldn’t trust it. Maybe he just couldn’t wear it to work. Maybe he just didn’t wear it! And then there’s always the possibility that he’s not married but seriously dating someone… but then at least there’s hope!

Anyway, as I said before, I was completely unable to close the deal. But then again, maybe hitting on your radiology tech isn’t the best idea. But… then again, he has seen me at my worst. He has seen my inside. He knows me deeply. And by “deeply” I mean he’s seen my stomach from like 25 different angles.

He also, as a side note, alerted me to the fact that my stomach is basically in my crotch. Initially they had that little apron around my waist (you know, the one that’s meant to protect my “lady bits”), but it kept blocking their view. It turns out, my stomach is actually wedged WAY DOWN there below my hips. Thank goodness, too, because that meant he had to retake those first few x-rays, checking and re-checking the location of my hips, “centering his focus” lower and lower.

I have never thought so many dirty thoughts in a doctor’s office before. But what do I do now? Any advice?

I know his first name and part of his last name. I know that he knows the manager of the local pizza joint. I know where he works. I know he doesn’t wear a wedding ring and wasn’t averse to my flirting. I know he’s seen me at my best with barium chalk all over my face in the latest trend in scrubwear. (Heck, if he saw me with clothes on it’d be a step backwards!)

Gah! Why is the line between following a genuine interest and flat out stalking SO DARN THIN???

OK. It’s in your hands. Best plan that leads to at least a phone number exchange with the target gets a drink at the next Happy Hour. Go!

UPDATE: I did it! I dropped off the note. I wrote the note first, of course, which was quite a to do. The first draft was, well, crappy. So after changing pens and starting over, I think I came up with something that mitigates the embarrassingness of it all.  Oh, and in the matter of who gets the drink. That honor would go to Sam whose comment was on my screen as I drafted the note, incorporating as many recommendations as possible. Including the crotch. Well, including NOT including the crotch.

Anyway, Sam, next drink’s on me. Unless I’m in jail on stalking charges. Then bail’s on YOU.

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