So, a few years ago I had to go in for a colonoscopy. Mm hmm. Great fun. But while I’m in there, I’m having quality time with the prep nurse and she says to me, “Are you single?”
“Uh… yeah. Sort of. Why do you ask?”
“Well, the doctor is single, and he’s a really nice guy. You should ask him out for coffee after.”
Coffee with a doctor. My mother would be so proud.
Just then, the doctor walks in, and I’m in one of those attractive hospital gowns and my feet are already up in the stirrups. We shake hands. He then starts asking me about the quality of my bowel movements. I’m thinking, yes, he’s nice looking, but this isn’t one of those bonding moments.
Then he starts with the procedure and it’s so excruciatingly painful I nearly bend the steel bars on the side of the bed. He’s looking at the camera screen, clearly fascinated, a man who obviously loves his job, and he says to me, “You really ought to see this.”
Breathe. Just breathe. “Well… no. (Grunt.) No thank you. I’d rather not.”
Finally an eternity passes and the procedure is finished and he lectures me on the importance of eating roughage, and I get dressed and leave. The nurse looks at me with her brow furrowed, wondering why I am not swooping in and grabbing this good catch while I can.
What can I say? Somehow I just wasn’t in the mood for coffee. After you’ve shared certain experiences with someone, try as you might you can never put them in the romance zone.