2001:June:12
2001
Chide me if you want, but I haven't gone to the Gyno in five years. It's time for me to go because I'll be ripping out this Norplant godsend and leaving Mark to his vasectomy. No cheating for me after that! Anyhoo, I had no clue who to go to in Wilmington. When I got the sticks inserted, it was at a family planning clinic. Now, I'm an insured person. I can read magazines and have better waiting rooms (thank you husband Mark). Well anyhoo, naturally, I want a woman to examine me. I always give business to women as much as I can (and even went to see Bridget Jones twice in the theater hoping that more like me will financially incite producers to produce more women-oriented movies). So, I'm looking in the Wilmington Yellow Pages (WYP). I see this lovely add for "Women caring for Women" and after getting over my recent distrust for anyone with great yellow pages ads (the dentist I initially chose had a GREAT yellow pages add and spent about fifty minutes telling me in my massage dental chair how white my smile could be if I got his elective dental work. He even showed me two videos), I called the "Women who Cared about women". They put me on hold. The music was country music. I hung up and called another group of women gynos. Oh yes, it was the country music that tipped the balance.
