Friday, August 01, 2008

One-sided, and it feels so good

A phone conversation 2 days ago between the cube neighbor and someone who I presume was his wife:

(phone rings)
Cube Neighbor: Hey:
Wife: ...................
CN: It went OK. Uncomfortable, but that's what I expected.
W: ...................
CN: Well, he had to take a culture.....yup....Yeah, sure did.
W: .........
CN: He did say it might come back, and I guess it has. He's going to see what's in there.
CN: Yep. (obviously remembering at this point that he works in a cubicle) Hey, I'll tell you more when I see you tonight, OK?
W: ...........
CN: Kbye.


For more than a few moments my mind was occupied by exactly WHAT the cube neighbor had once before that has come back and that might need culturing to see 'what's in there.'

Gonorrhea? Fungus?

And WHERE was the culturing done?

Toes? Butthole? Navel? Eyelid?

I eyeballed the CN throughout the day, trying to figure it out. He was walking with a wide-stanced limp, which led my twisted brain down the path of 'something in the groin area,' because I'm an expert leaper-to-conclusions like that. In my mind he's had some kind of icky penile thing happening (or maybe butt thing!) that was a result of some youthful indiscretions, and it had returned, and the wife wasn't going to touch him with a latex-covered 10-foot pole until whateveritwas was GONE, dawg, so he, being a man, went to the doc to get 'er fixed so he could sex up the little woman.

See how I do? It's scary.

Didn't help that the local leader of the prayer club (and a very nice man) came by CN's office yesterday and was asking him about 'his issue' in tones of hushed concern just perceptible enough to render them maddeningly difficult to hear. Oh, how I strained to listen, but could find no purchase on which to plant yet another surmise about CN's condition. Lord, I did try. Out of concern, you see. Not out of any need to interior decorate CN's life with stinky infectious wieners or anything.....

It was only yesterday afternoon that a hallway conversation shone the blazing light of truth on the situation.

Turns out? Plantar wart.

Not nearly as thrilling as my oozing infectious scenario. Darn him. He really should have tried harder.

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