Bread, Circuses, and Vicodin

So I go to the doc’s for my annual exam and we get to the part where he sticks his finger up my ass. I figure it’s the closest I’ll come to sex with another person that day so maybe afterward we’ll have a cuddle and exchange fake phone numbers. Nu-uh. I’m assuming the position and singing 'I Feel Pretty' while doc is doing what I'm pretty sure is just payback for society making dissection a crime for so long. They can find a 1 cm spot in someone's lung with a wand but the only way to check my prostate is with a rubber glove and a fistful of KY jelly? And it's over too soon, too- I'm left with a lubed up asshole and my pants around my ankles but the doc is gone. I'm looking over my shoulder to see if he's a least thrown a 20 on the table and I'm thinking he could have given me a reach around, but no. I'm also pretty sure that was a condom I saw him throwing away. Suddenly it hits me that I need better health insurance- the Happy Ending Health Insurance Co. There's your health care reform.