Apparently I've become a problem at PT. Yep, that's me the problem patient. Some of you might think I've intentionally become a problem with the hope I get kicked out of the place, but I swear it hasn't been intentional.
However, potentially, that's a great strategy.
Honestly, if I go missing anytime soon, look at The Torturer as the prime suspect. I think the man's had enough of my shit to last him a lifetime. (Can you imagine anyone ever having enough of me?)
It all started with my cougar post when I wrote about the patient (Ms. Moaner) who sounds like she's orgasming every time she's touched. Or maybe it was before that when I first wrote about the patient I dubbed Short Shorts who walks around with her ass cheeks hanging out every day. Or maybe it was when I wrote about The Torturer's Money Town groupies whom I dubbed The Harem.
Or maybe it was when ….
Well, you get the idea.
The Torturer has been having "talks" with me lately. Like I'm an effing FIVE year old or something!
He tells me he can't have someone writing about his patients because they won't want to come to PT if "some woman" writes about them. How ridiculous of a concern is that? First of all, I'm not some woman. I'm a patient too and I'm extremely empathetic towards real people suffering from real pain.
And I don't mean the pain of wanting The Torturer to massage their ass.
Second, I don't tell any of the Money Town sluts I'm writing about them. What? Does he think I'm stupid? Would I walk up to one of them and say, "You're the epitome of a bored Money Town ho so I made fun of you on my blog today?!"
That would not be polite and I am always polite.
I don't even take notes while I'm there. Who needs to? I mean, I wish I could forget some of the people I've seen there but they are vividly etched in my memory.
Last week I walked into PT one day and a group of therapists and techs were huddled together laughing. They waved me over the moment they saw me.
"I can't even look over at The Torturer right now," one of them said.
I instantly glanced over at The Torturer.
He was working with Ms. Moaner. She sounded as if she was approaching orgasm any second now. The staff was in a fit of giggles waiting for the next moan to escape her.
"She let out two more just a minute ago," one tech said.
(As if it were a fart … she let out two …)
Apparently the staff just loves it if Ms. Moaner and I are there at the same time. They're waiting to see what I'll do when she moans. They want me to moan back, but louder. No one can make eye contact when she's in the building because eye contact would result in everyone bursting into a fit of giggles.
No, when Ms. Moaner is in the building we all look at each other's ears, or just above or below one another's eyes. Eye contact must be avoided at all costs or laughter will result and possibly never stop.
Now, I suppose I can see The Torturer's point of view a little bit. He doesn't like his staff huddled in a corner talking to me when they should maybe be *ahem* working. He certainly would not be happy to see them reading my blog on their iPhones when he's out of the room. He won't put up with one minute of unprofessionalism in his staff and he might be just slightly inclined to think they are less professional when I'm around.
They are! (But shhhhh don't tell him!)
It's because I've been there for so long and we're like one big happy family now. They aren't really being unprofessional … I've just become one of them.
Can he expect any less? I mean, omigod, I've been there for nearly three hellish years now.
Yesterday when I arrived I asked one of the techs where The Torturer was. He told me he was in a back room with Ms. Moaner.
"He has to put her in a private room now because he knows if he doesn't we'll all start laughing," the tech said.
Then he went on and added, "Yeah, I just had to go back and ask him a question and she let out another one while I was standing right there."
The sad thing is I think Ms. Moaner is quite enamored with The Torturer. She's the typical Money Town woman. She's been nipped and tucked and drives up to PT in her Porsche. She flirts openly with The Torturer and talks about him nonstop when he's out of the room. Her suggestive moaning is probably her attempt to attract him.
It's the new Money Town Mating Call. Just watch, by next year at this time, all the Money Town women will be walking around moaning orgasmically in public.
© Twenty Four At Heart