Too Much “Special Time”. By CpSingleton © 2016 (part two)
Calvin had called the local surgery the minute his hand had strayed around his scrotum and found the lump, during a morning break “special time”.The men’s loo had been beautifully quiet, as he held his iPhone -set to relief.com- in one hand and his “special friend” in the other. Most of the lads in the office smoked, so were out filling their lungs, leaving him free to indulge in his own addiction.
The shocking find quite ruined his stroke, I can tell you.
His heart beat faster in panic as he probed the offending mass; with not a drop of swiftly flowing blood re-raising his flaccid titanic.
Fearing the worst, he flipped his phone, flicked off Tara and Brenda Bend and searched out the surgery’s telephone number. Unfortunately, when the number was answered, he was told that the earliest space to be seen was three weeks away. He hummed and ahhhhed, before deciding that he’d ring early the next morning, in hope to grab a cancellation.
Before returning to his desk, he then checked his favourite medical website for the likelihood of the mass being the “C” word and was relieved to find that it may only be a big boil.
To his great annoyance, the boil prevented him from only completing three more “Special Times” that day. So, disgruntled, he slumped off to bed early that night.