Full bill of health

My work, wanting to ensure they have not employed someone who is at death’s door have made me, as part of my contract, go for a medical. At first I thought this was totally unnecessary, but that was before I saw the Harley Street offices of our firm doctor. Well, that is it, I decided then and there, I must find myself a rich man to keep me in the manner I was about to be made accustomed to!

I arrived in the doctor’s office and he asked me to strip to my underwear and put on the robe (what is the point in putting on the robe when the opening, unlike in all US hospital shows, has to be at the front? I may as well be naked). Now, I figured, he must be a rich man, a bit old for my liking, but I could deal with that if I was to have a lifestyle where I visited doctors like this and so, when he asked me to strip, I thought I was in. I was disappointed to find all he wanted to do was hit me on my back, check my heart beat and take my blood pressure – what a disappointment! That’s the first time a man has ever got me that naked and not tried anything (and I kind of hope it’s the last; although this is not an invitation for a doctor to start touching me up! I need to check your bank balance first!). I may not have a man, or money but I now know, I have my health.