That's It

“soooo000... What’s wrong with you?” The Man had just returned from urgent care. I was checking the ol' myspace.

“I strained something.”

“They x-rayed you?” he nodded “They poked you?” he demonstrated the poking that had taken place. "A strain?" He could see the that’s it? all over me.

“They gave me vicodin." Oh. Now the motherfucker get's to be high too? "What kind of underpants are you wearing right now?” REALLY high?

“well. That should help you relax and sleep. I‘m not wearing underpants right now.”

“I’m supposed to rest.”  I nodded absently as he spoke.  “So. You want to take advantage of nap time?” I glanced over and noticed he was not entirely restful.

“Seriously? Where did that come from?”  I wondered if he got the right pills.

“Well. I was thinking about you not wearing any underwear and.. I got carried away I guess.”

“Okay.” I stood up, undid my belt, slipped out of my pants and kicked them away. “we have about twenty minutes.”

“Well don’t act like you want to or anything.”

“I took my pants off. Don’t get girly on me. How do you want to do this? Are you supposed to do this?”

“No bending, lifting, twisting, or straining.”

*are you kidding me face*  “ooooohhhh statue sex”

“well you can move!”

“fiiiiIIIIIne. If you attempt any acrobatics I don’t want to hear shit about it later.”

“I won’t.”

“You say that now. I haven‘t even bent over yet.” 

I could see the that's it all over him. 

April 15, 2009