Tittie-Gate Flopalooza 2022

I’ve either gotten to the age where modesty is a thing of the past, I have zero f’s left to give, or both. Let me set this up for y’all.

I had my yearly physical yesterday with a new doctor. She was a lil bitty thing, Indian (which I mention for later context), mean as hell, and she herself had ZERO F’s to give. She came very highly recommended, yet I guess I really like my doctors to appear to care just a lil more than this ole gal did. However, she was very thorough, even though she talked over me and cut me off as I answered her questions. After I finally hit my limit with her lack of couth and concern, we had a glare down, where I snapped back at her and she seemed to get the hint and slowed down juuust enough to actually let me answer her. I’ve decided that at this point, she’s on probation with me, and upon my follow-up visit, a decision will be made as to if I will fire her and yet again be searching for a new doctor.

But I digress. Y’all came to read about “Tittie-Gate Flopalooza 2022”.

When I got to my room, I was given a paper top to put on. It was open in the front, with juuuuuust enough coverage to make me feel daring. I guess the nurse thought it would be fun to leave out the fact that these paper tops were made of the same disintegrating crap those shorts are made out of that all these women bought for their men over the summer. Y’all know the ones, they look like regular shorts but once they get wet, they start falling apart and hilarity ensues. These paper tops do the same thing, except in plain ole air.

I made it through 90% of my physical before I began to notice the left shoulder piece was coming apart. I mentioned it to the doctor, who either didn’t hear me, pretended not to hear me, or DID hear me but decided she didn’t give a shit and just kept talking while I sat there trying to find a way to keep my left boobsicle contained. I settled on crossing my arms as I was sitting down anyways. It was an easy fix for the current position I was sitting in. All was fine until she asked me to stand up and walk across the floor in various Benny Hill-inspired walks. I swear she did it out of pure meanness, but I can’t prove it. Deciding I, too, didn’t give a shit if she got flashed, I walked diagonally across the room once, and then again in the opposite direction. I had my back to her at this point as she began barking out orders in her very heavy Indian accent which, muffled with the mask and paired with my fluid-filled ears from an upper respiratory infection, made it hard to understand. I turned to ask her what she had said for the 3rd time and felt the shoulder piece give up on life, die, and very quietly flit down my stomach and back in the most graceful swan dive I’ve ever witnessed.

Since I had turned to ask her what she had said, I was actually facing the angry doctor when this happened, making full eye contact. I need to mention right here that I was still really pissed off at her, too, so I decided she was gonna make friends with Bernice the Boob, all hell be damned, as she was eye level with it anyways. She had me stand facing her, Bernice mere inches from her face, and hold my hands straight out at my sides. She ordered me to bring each hand to my nose and also touch her hand. She never broke eye contact with me as I glared back at her and made sure Bernice was angled right at her damn nose the whole time. Once the fingertip/nose exercise was complete, she said, “Here, let me help you with that.” and proceeded to tie the shoulder piece together in a makeshift strap. Damn straight. I wasn’t about to move when ole Bernice made her debut. That ole crusty ass doctor got an eye full, I stood the straightest I’ve stood in years (let’s face it, a nearly 50 year old, size D boob has more give than a 20 year old one does, so she needed all the help she could get at looking ole gal in the face), and was yelling “THAT’S RIGHT BEEEOTTCHHHH! LOOK AT IT!!! LOOOOOOK ATTTTT ITTTT!” in my head the entire time.

So, yeah, that’s how Tittie-Gate Flopalooza 2022″ came to be.

Ole crusty ass grump butt doctor.

Published by Kimber

I'm a TV and International Radio host, contributing columnist to DeVille Magazine, motivational speaker, podcaster, blogger, and so much more. I love my fur babies, I love Memphis, Elvis, and all things music! Having toured internationally as a singer/songwriter in the past, it's my joy to once again be working on new music for 2022. There are so many new things on my horizon in the new year, won't you join me?! Authentically, joyfully, beautifully broken, and loudly ME.

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