No XX Here!

Disclaimer: Ok, this is only an observation. I'm not condemning nor am I condoning anything.

After diving head first into Harley sub-culture a few years ago I had to get the gear, you know, the leathers. I wanted them mostly for the protection they offer, but I loved the fringe benefits. Most, some, a few women look great in tightly fitted chaps. And the chaps HAVE to be tightly fitted for that sexy look to allow for stretching.

The first ride out in my new found hotness gear left me with a stress fracture on my knee. I didn't know it was a stress fracture at first. It hurt, it was swollen, I had to see the doctor, yada, yada, yada.

I made a phone call to set an appointment and was told that there was only ONE doctor in the ENTIRE practice that could see me that day. It was a female doctor that I'll call Dr. XY. I was shocked, but intrigued.

I'd never seen Dr. XY before but I'd heard all of the salacious gossip about this physician. In our small town rumors and rumors of rumors spread like wildfire. Dr XY had been married for 30+ years, was an accomplished pilot, a parent and one of the founding members of the largest medical practice in our little area. Dr. XY's secret was also the topic of many "over latte" discussions.

I was sitting in the office waiting for Dr. XY to come in after I'd been x-rayed. Suddenly the door was forced open and this whirlwind of a doctor came blowing into the room. In one swift motion a short, stubby, cankled leg, with a dowdy shoe, forced up the frumpy skirt and kicked the door shut.

I tried not to stare, but it was impossible. Dr XY wore the most hideous outfit EVER created, badly applied, and over done, make-up and a terrible excuse of a wig. Yes, you see Dr. XY was bald. Dr. XY was also an XY, chromosomely speaking.

A few years before Dr XY, now you know why I picked "XY," chose to have his "his" parts removed and replaced with "her" parts. I'm not sure why his wife, as in still married, didn't give old XY a few make-up tips and a little help holding that creepy wig in place.

Back to my story. Dr. XY glared at me from the start.

XY: ::Shaking the x-rays in front of me:: "Do you have ANY idea what crashing a motorcycle at 60 mph is like?"

Me: "No, I didn't crash."

XY: "I used to work in the trauma center!" XY's twitching forehead made the wig fall a little more off center. It was then several inches longer on one side and the bangs were all tweaked out.

Bubble thought here: "Your point? Airplanes crash all the time killing multiple people in almost every instance and you still fly."

XY: eye twitching now and make-up running, "It's like falling out of a SIX STORY WINDOW!"

I just stared at this curiously dressed person that was struggling to keep the bad wig in place and the cheap mascara from running.

XY: "Why in HELL would you CHOOSE to do that?!"

I sat there in disbelief trying to decide what the heck to say.

XY: "Well, I asked you WHY you would CHOOSE to do that?!"

Me: "I guess we all make decisions that others might not make."

Dr. XY huffed, threw down the x-rays and left me sitting in the room. Dr. XY never returned.

I wonder if he/she knew I was speaking of the wig?