She handed me a bottle of Ciprofloxacin, told me to follow the instructions and I should good as new within 24 hours . . . No more itching, no more burning pee and good to go in the bedroom with no worries. (DAMN, AM I THAT TRANSPARENT??)

I gave her a faux look of shock and dismay and we both laughed at the same time. She dismissed me with a Good Luck and hoped to meet me under different circumstances in the future. I slipped off the table and left without shaking her hand as the revelation of her being my therapists sister still was a distressful fact for me to digest. You see, being the nonsensical pervert that I am, I often fantasize about the women who stumble into my life. Many times I have pictured myself sitting quietly in the corner of my oh so hot shrinks office, watching, masturbating, as she and the good ER doc got it on . . .on the very couch where I bare my soul – where I lie about my lying. Now that thought is just way too incestuous to even imagine. (DAMN)

I shook my head to rid my thoughts of Dr. Gabs and get back at the task at hand, finding herpes. Since K was in her workshop and far from earshot, I had control of the music in the house. As I continued to give my self one final end-to-end oral cavity search for any signs of a sexually transmitted disease, I heard the hiphop sounds of the Pussycat Dolls blasting from the living room.

Standing on my barefoot tiptoes and leaning closer into the mirror, I once again pulled my bottom lip down and out and began to sing along, swaying my hips back and forth in front of the sink. Again my thoughts drifted to the show as I belted out the tune.

Hey Bette, DONCHA WISH YOUR GIRLFRIEND WAS HOT LIKE ME? DONCHA..DONCHA. DONCHA WISH YOUR GIRLFRIEND WAS A FREAK LIKE ME? DONCHA

I always thought that I was way more fun, athletic and better suited for Bette than Tina ever was. Yea, if she could see me now, she would definitely wish her girlfriend was a freak like me.