We Need a Another Sample

A good friend of mine relayed this story, and though the theme is adult in nature, I attempt to write it in a way that encourages broad acceptance.

As do many men, my friend, let’s name him William, elected, with wife’s blessing, to have a vasectomy.  This decision was arrived upon as William had full grown children who had in turn contributed grand children to the clan, thus William’s family line was in little danger of dying and he no longer had procreation concerns.  The day of surgery came and went with no issues and with the aid of frozen peas to act as pliable icepack he was up on his feet in short order.

Healing continued per schedule with no complications and after the appointed three month wait he had a decision to make: should I have doctor test for success of the procedure or throw caution to the wind.  William was a thorough sort and felt the former course prudent and called physician’s assistant to schedule a drop-off.  Drop-off is no doubt clear to you, but for those unfamiliar with the process, William had been given a container and he was to provide a sample which the doctor would test to determine if any true swimmers remained.

The morning of drop-off day William’s wife assisted in establishing just the needed mood and motivation allowing William to deliver a sample of liberal magnitude.  All was well and William, now in a state of complete relaxation, drove off for urologist’s headquarters.  Upon arrival William exited his car and in retrospect realized he should have brought along poke or box to conceal the vessel containing his sample, owing to the fact it was clear plastic.  This is when an error of judgement occurred.  William slide container in pocket assuming it was sufficiently secure—at least enough so for walk to office door and from there to counter.  William arrived in line at receptionist’s window with one other in queue.  While waiting his turn, William had the distinct sensation of warm fluid where none should be.

William’s state of relaxation had now deserted and was replaced by a growing sense of tension.

When he stepped forward to inform said receptionist of his difficulty, he used a discrete tone as several were now in line immediately behind.  The woman manning the post barked loudly that another sample would be needed.  She handed William a new cup and pointed to the only bathroom in site and told him to return upon completion.  William turned to find more than one set of eyes upon him and hurried to restroom.  In sharp contrast to the pleasant environment had at home, he now stood in a small room adjacent to waiting room.  The lighting was harsh, he could easily hear conversation from those just outside the door, and children wandered impatiently jarring handle from time to time.

It took considerable will power and time and caused substantial irritation to private regions, but William was able to afford a sample—this decidedly less liberal.  When he exited he found a room of staring patients and he wasted no time in handing his new work to the same gentile minder of window he met earlier.  William didn’t pause for discussion and promptly left the office not once looking over his shoulder.

My friend is not easily embarrassed, but for reasons we can probably all understand William chose never to return nor did he call for results ultimately choosing to throw caution to the wind.  To this day William has fathered no new offspring.