Going to see the doctor.

I am warning you now, this story is more distasteful than usual. For those of you who get offended easily, now is your turn to look away.
I have always been sort of a mess when it comes to visiting the gynecologist. Not because I have a history of bad results, or shudder when coming face to face with the speculum. My problem, believe it or not, are the robes. When I lived in New York, I was spoiled rotten by my gynecologists office. It was right on Madison in a high rise building, and each patient was greeted with brand new robes so comfy you could sleep in and sat in a room where on each ceiling displayed a video of ocean waves crashing on a beach. If I didn’t know any better, I could have sworn I was secretly entered into Promises Rehab Center.
I went there for so long that I must have forgotten that most OB-GYN offices did not operate this way, nor did they have these fabulous facilities. I had to go back to reality the hard way. I was living in South Florida for a month when I made my first gynecologist appointment. The doctor had a very nice reputation and I was looking forward to getting the whole thing over with. Her office was nice enough, a building that had a great view overlooking Miami Beach, and the waiting room was very clean.
After waiting a few minutes, the receptionist called me in and showed me into my room. She handed me a small package, told me to undress, and assured me that the doctor would be in shortly. That was when I looked down and saw what was in the package. There was no robe to be found; instead I saw what appeared to be 3 pieces of paper towel with 2 holes. I panicked- this could not have been what I was supposed to wear when meeting my doctor for the first time. What would she think of me? I tore the paper towels open and stuck my arms through its holes. I sat on the exam chair, put my feet in its stirrups, and looked down to see that my entire vagina was exposed. I got out of the chair, looked around, and saw to no avail a cover for my lap.
“Well if this is the way the office operates, so be it.” I admit defeat, sit back onto the exam chair and hold my breath, accepting my fate. A few minutes later, the doctor walks in and is greeted by my vagina.
“Hello, I am Doctor ___”, says the doctor.
“Hello, my name is Ashley,” says my vagina.
“Um Ashley…you’re…um…sitting on the lap cover…I don’t know if you are aware…” the doctor pointed out that the 4th sheet of paper towel I was sitting on was actually the paper towel that was supposed to cover my bits.
“Oh…right. I should have known.” I sheepishly pull the paper out from underneath and cover myself up, feeling stupid and strangely unattractive. I mean, she was going to see it regardless, what did it matter at that point if she got an eyeful of cooter?
I obviously could not bring myself to see this doctor ever again. And I wish I could say that that was the worst situation I have ever been in at the gynecologist. Sadly, it was not.
The last time I went for a check up, it was at an office right by my home. This one was even less attractive than the former, with no high rise building or fancy views of the city. This one was loud and had The View playing on a static television that would cut in and out every few minutes. A woman that made Precious look like Naomi Campbell was sitting right next to me in the waiting room, and when she wasn’t hacking up a lung or sweating profusely she would fall asleep and snore so loud I thought she was having a heart attack. Finally after what felt like eternity, I was called into my room.
“Please let there be a normal gown to put on” I wished with all my might.
I get into the room and am greeted by that same stupid package of paper towel I was dreading. However, being that I am a grown woman and not 12 years old visiting the doctor for the first time, I believed that there was no way I would screw this up again. My confidence was sky-high and I start putting on the robe, but I notice right away that this robe is a lot smaller than the last one. There are also no holes to put your arms through, so I proceed to awkwardly wrap the paper towel around my body. When I go to sit down, the paper towel stars to rip and tears right across my left boob.
“FUCK!!!!!” I scream. “Why the hell can I not figure this out???” I am in full panic mode at this point, as I obviously cannot have the doctor walk in to find me bottomless, my vagina fully exposed, and a boob hanging out of a paper towel rip. She would probably file a sexual harassment law suit against me and THEN where would I go for a pap smear? I rip a piece of the paper covering the exam chair and place it over my lap, my ass and the used chair getting way too personal. The doctor walks in immediately after.
“Ashley!” cried the loud mouthed doctor. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Wardrobe malfunction?” I shrug.
“Out of all my years practicing, I must say I have never seen a patient more confused. Why aren’t you wearing the robe? It was right on the counter!” The doctor points to a separate package that held the robe inside. Basically, I was wearing the lap cover as a robe, and a piece of the chair as a lap cover. What the hell is wrong with me?
I honestly could say I have never felt more stupid in my life than at that moment when the doctor pointed out my failure. I have another appointment coming up next year, and when I go, I hope that I will be wiser.