I sat there for a moment, wordless and trying to comprehend what she had just asked.
“Of course I shower,” I stammered. “Every day.”
“Okay, then,” she went on. “Do you clean yourself after going to the bathroom?”
My jaw was still aching from the first time it hit the floor when it thudded down again.
“You’re asking me if I wipe my ass?” I asked incredulously.
“Yes,” she said. “There have been complaints. ”
“Of course I wipe my ass,” I snapped. “I’ve gotten quite good over the last thirty years. ”
“Well, there have been complaints,” she repeated. “You’ll need the address whatever your problem is. ”
I sat there wondering if she was purposely trying to humiliate me. I was livid with her at that point, and I felt that my impulse control was going to abandon me before too long.
I stood up without looking at her and walked out the door without saying a word. I went back to my desk and all I wanted to do for the life of me was cry. After sitting there for who knows how long ignoring the ringing phone, I grabbed my things and went home desperately trying to think of a way to explain all this to my wife.
If you like what I write, why not subscribe to Signs of Sanity via RSS or via e-mail?
