You remind me of my Pap smear.

So recently I did my biennial womanly duty and went in to have my doctor check my unmentionables for cervical cancer and trolls and loose change or whatever else it is they look for up there.

Oh hey, I was wondering where those went.

We were making the usual idle chitchat that two people who don’t know each other very well make when they’re trying to completely ignore the fact that one of them is two knuckles deep in the other’s hoo-ha, and of course the closest topic at hand was how we’d spent our summers.

There was, naturally, the obligatory smalltalk about how nice the weather had been. My doctor made an amusing point about how whenever people are visiting we point out the sunshine as if taking credit for it, like, “Look! Look what I did for you! I knew you were coming so I made you this beautiful weather!”

And I agreed and mentioned how I’d been doing a lot of that lately since we’d had tons of friends visiting from out of town in August, and she asked if any of them had come from particularly far away, and I was like, “Oh yeah, totally, one of my friends who’s been teaching English in Japan for ages came back to be in a wedding,” and then I suddenly realized that I was talking about one of my good friends during a Pap test and all kinds of potential for childish awkward hilarity began welling up in me.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t snicker the entire time I was putting my clothes back on.

And it’s probably a good thing that I won’t be able to see my friend again before she heads back to Japan, because as cool as we are, I’m pretty sure it’s conversation openers like, “Hey, so I was at the gyno getting a pelvic exam and your name came up,” that ruin friendships.

 

L., if you’re reading this, I am sorry, I am so very sorry. Laughing my butt off, but still very sorry.