EDITOR'S NOTE: If you do not like visuals, strong language and too much information about V. is going to make you gag with a spoon, you should skip this post in its entirety and wait for the next update from Pam. Also note, this is being posted on Thursday but back dated to Wednesday in order to keep the posts in order. I may also add some more to it as I am a bit rushed to allow Pam to enter in her next post.
Written in notes on my Crackberry.
Two and a half hours late, hot tea into my groin on the way down after falling asleep while Pam was driving in immense traffic, sent to the semen collections rooms in Andrology, had to ask directions from a woman walking around with her two daughters (who I am sure she had to explain that Andrology was a fancy term for toss-off area), enter the sperm collection area that is divided into a waiting area and several lockable rooms equipped with a DVD player, a VHS player and magazines. I took the first room that was empty and found all but one DVD was gone (even though they are supposedly magnetically encoded to sound an alarm if they are removed from the room) and it was a DVD-R titled "Freshman Fuck Dolls". There was also a VHS machine with a tape sticking out with a title of "Wright Stuff" and in the cabinet marked "Magazines, Videos" there was one magazine: Fashion. Are you kidding me? That's like getting off on the cosmetic pictures in Vogue or Cosmopolitan. Surely they could do better than that?!?!
Besides the sink (duh) and a chair that is made of material that seems to be capable of being hosed down on the front lawn for easy cleaning, there sat a night stand of sorts with mounds of Kleenex and other assorted sizes of absorbent material. I noticed a handle that seemed like a drawer and pulled it open and found more appropriate magazines inside: six issues of Playboy, two issues of Penthouse and the 1993 Swimsuits issue of Sports Illustrated. On the floor between the table and the chair was another magazine whose cover was missing but seemed to feature only card-carrying 18 and 19 year olds. Oh yeah, these folks are really on the pulse of the soft and hard core porn industry. The final items in the drawer were two tubes of HealthCare Plus lubricating jelly. I see. No KY heated sensation thingy as seen on TV eh? Very well.
So I sit here jotting notes because this really is a strange process, I am tired, there has been a LOT going on this week and I am generally distracted at the moment. Ah well, I have a job to do so better secure the BB in a safe, dry spot and get to "reading" some informational, educational and witty material in those magazines. Back in a flash. LOL.
So the VCR is a bust and either won't play or cannot be seen because I cannot get the TV to change to the correct channel. There was a second DVD in the player though titled "Teenage Sinsations". Maybe they should look into connecting up an FTA unit or Rogers On-Demand to provide a better range of selections. The other issue is that the Sony LCD TV simply plays through the built-in speakers. Uhm, riiiight. So everyone on the other side of the extremely thin walls in here (I can hear the office people work and the AC fan go on and off) can nod there heads on which item you selected to view. Not exactly the privacy that would make one feel comfortable. How about at least the option of disposable headphones like they give out on the airlines? Five bucks for a little peace of mind is a great investment in my books. Did I mention they are doing construction as well? And I can here the ins and outs (pun intended) of this very busy office. Sigh, I may be a while.
When all was said and done (twice), I had to pop (pun intended) into the other two rooms to check out the "selections" in there. Room one had nothing it it (so much for the magnetically encoded security) and room two had three titles: Latinas, Black Velvet and another copy of the Dolls. As the technician and my wife were waiting on my Herculean efforts, I decided not to screen these other two and made my way back to the main office. The same lady that took us in also retrieved my precious package from my hands and I saw DW sitting in the waiting room. She was a bit worried about me, thinking the stress of the last few days would affect me. It does and it did but one has to "focus" (just for you LB) on the task at hand and the reason one is here so while it may take a bit longer, it was going to happen. I had to sign a bunch more forms and then we had to see practitioner M. We had an instructional meeting on how Pam is to stab her ass and fill it with progesterone oil everyday for the next three months. Poor DW. We paid for all the stuff, gathered our copies of the bills and left. As it was very late, I let Pam go off to work while I took the GO train home.
Missed the damn train so I went in to get my ticket and could have sworn that either DW or this nutty ticket lady said 1:30PM was the next train. I apparently heard incorrectly and therefor missed the 1:13PM train as I munch on my yummy and super cheap Union Station pizza from Pizza2Go. I sent a note to DW and turned on the iPod to watch BB8. I made the 2:13PM train and, rolling through Scarborough, I reached my brother (still in town from Ottawa with his family) and he agreed to retrieve me from the station. I was sitting there watching my show when I realized we were again at a full stop. Oh crap! Yep, doors closed, train moving, I had missed my train stop and was headed to Whitby. Another frantic SMS to LB and he was on his way to Whitby to pick me up. Sigh, nothing is ever so simple anymore, is it?