Saunversation 08/07/06

I just noticed that at 5:43 and 21 seconds the date will look like a cool countdown.  When I was a dorky sophomore in high school my friend Bert and I excitedly awaited 12:34 and 56 seconds on 7/8/90.  My dorky great grandchild can eagerly anticipate the next time that will happen. 

Anyway, it has been some time since I've settled into sauna conversation and I must say that after today it may be a lot longer.  The words I wish I had not heard were "I love my gynecologist, I'll call her and tell her you're coming over..."

The woman's sentence trailed off.  She gave me a quick glance before turning to her friend and raising her eyebrows as if to say "whoops!  Might as well take a picture and show him!"   But, ladies, it's not what you think.  I do not want your picture.  Nothing wrecks centuries of female objectification like the mention of "gynecology," the the third worse word after "mucus" and "pubic".  As soon as you make 'it' clinical and, well, an actual organ of comprised living tissues, you've taken the magic out of 'it'.   And you've kind of turned it into a sweaty, little monster.

I'd suggest that the 'g' word is more effective than pepper spray.  Just shout "I have an appointment with my gynecologist" and the would-be assailant will flee.  Weary wives can also try this on frisky husbands.  Although once we get so focused on certain goals there may be a chance we're not listening.

So the saunversation ended and we all sat quietly.  The three ladies on one side and me on the other.  They wondering what I was thinking and I was hoping they weren't thinking what they thought I was thinking.  I actually was wrought with thoughts of all I need to get done before my sister's wedding this weekend.  All I wanted to do was go back to the shedio and get started.  But I didn't want to leave so quickly lest the ladies think I wasn't mature enough to handle their conversation.  So I sat their and started counting in my head.  I figured getting to at least 100 would make my exit look normal. 

At around 43 they all got up and left.  Leaving me to wonder if I'd stayed too long.   

And for the love of the sweet baby, please don't comment on the importance of female health.   I swear I won't soak any gauze in broth and risk losing a finger.