I got called into the inner chamber of boob doom next. It was dimly lit and housed what I can vaguely describe as a humongous 1954 white and glass wringer washer, two chairs and a crooked bulletin board.
My host asked me to sit and began to ask me questions from her clipboard. Her tone had all the enthusiasm of a 98 year old bingo caller and she did not make eye contact. Once we got thru all the data of my being she asked the question - the dreaded question.
"Is there any chance you could be pregnant?" Nervous laughter. From me.
"Uhhhh nope - not a chance" She made direct eye contact. " Are you sure?"
I am now crimson. And giggling.
"OH ya I am so sure." ( inner voice of horror - I am going to have to explain why - I am gonna have to tell her.. this is so awkward...)
"Mnnn. Did your husband have a vauscitonjkjkjskjfk......? " (what is that? a vasc??? husband?? oh god. it's now or never - )
"It's a girl!!" I was shouting.
She is now standing and staring at me. "I thought you said you were not pregnant!?"
I have gone from crimson to flaming red and am now flailing my arms and stuttering loudly.
"No No I am not - My husband is a girl. He's a girl" This went over the cliff like Thelma and Louise.
"oh OH OHH - So you are a lesbian. " said my host who was joining me in turning a variety of colours. I panicked. My brain left the room. My mouth took over.
"Lesbian? Well yes - but no - Gay - oh god - Lesbian always sounds like something you stepped in - 'oh no I have lesbian on my shoe!!' I then mimed scraping the lesbian off the bottom of my shoe.
I have never seen anyone's face fall off quite the way hers did. She looked happy and dead at the same time. I could not get my stick on the ice. I was so embarrassed. We both were. But she had a glint in her eye as she gave me a warm consoling smile and put down the clipboard.
"I am so sorry" I said, " I thought the shoes would give it away." I looked down at the floor.
" Its ok" She said, "I don't really pay that much attention to that area - I kinda focus my attention on the waist up."
"Me too" I grinned back.
Then we both laughed our guts out and spent the next 20 minutes making pancakes, panini's and smores out of my breasts.