I had my first mammogram today. The first sign that it was sure to be a good time was the jam-packed parking lot. Who knew the hospital threw mid-week, mid-afternoon ragers? The goodness continued inside the lobby, where magazine choices included Coastal Style. This was a relief after the magazine choices at my “other” doctor included Conceive Magazine, American Baby, and Highlights. Which would have been fine, had some little bastard not already colored in the pictures and found all the differences.

Once in the “back room”, the kindly technichian clearly mistook my boobs for two cups of pancake batter, as she tried her best to flatten them just so. I learned that Right boob is completely camera shy, as it took a few takes to get her profile picture just right. The Left, being the larger and naturally more attention-seeking of the two, kept jumping into Right’s shot. I eventualy had to hold her back so she would stay out of the picture. Showey tramp.

When it was over I shamefully realized that I had let a perfect stranger and her squishing machine get to second base, and I didn’t even make her take me to dinner and a movie first. She didn’t really put in the effort to get to know me and my interest, outside of my prescription habits. Then she said she’d call if they wanted to see me again. Yeah. Sure. They always say they will call. I feel so cheap.