Whip-Smart: Episode 8-"Doctor, Doctor"

Whip-Smart: Episode 8-"Doctor, Doctor"
In life, there are certain things that should never be resuscitated-interest in acid wash jeans or Nick Carter's solo career for example-and then there are some things that just can't help but be brought back to life.


Though my friendship with Ridley the Rugby Player had seemingly flatlined, we recently got it out of its vegetative state. But while our friendship was going strong, Ridley's interest in rugby had apparently taken a turn for the worst.


"I quit my rugby team," he told me.


"That's too bad," I interjected.


"And I'm thinking about taking up extreme fighting," he continued.


"Couldn't you do something that isn't such a health risk?" I advised. "You know, like extreme sewing or extreme bread making?"


"Where's the adrenaline rush in that?" Ridley countered with a smirk.


And from one health risk to another, I decided to ask Ridley's diagnosis on my current bout of The Russian-itis.


"So are you two hitting it off again?" he asked.


"Oh who knows," I replied. "It's more like he hasn't pulled out any of his old tricks."


"Not to sound like an ass," Ridley began, "but does he have any new tricks?"


"Well now he's doing this nifty thing where he pretends like he's a human being with a working heart," I cracked. "But I do like this new guy, a bartender/philosophy teacher."


"Interesting combo," laughed Ridley. "You should totally clone him for me."


"I will if you make me some of your wheat bread for me," I replied.


"Sounds like a deal," Ridley nodded.


And from a clone deal to a surgical ordeal, my friend Gavin recently had surgery which definitely led to a cramp in his sex life with the cowboy due to the strict orders of Gavin to not be the recipient of the cowboy's affection for three weeks.


Yet Gavin, never one to be patient even he was one, found the antidote to this problem.


"I got the cowboy to bottom for the first time," he told me cheerfully.


"How did you manage to swing that one?" I asked.


"Beer and Vicodin," he giggled.


"Is that like the new millennium's wine and roses?" I laughed.


"But before that, he came down and took care of me after the surgery," he sighed. "And he was here for most of the day."


He paused for a moment.


"I'm so glad he visited, not just because of the sex, and I'm sad he left," Gavin said. "It's just that I now realize I really do like him."


"Oh that's precious," I smiled.


"I'm going to get some rest," Gavin said. "I;m sleepy , took a couple Vicodin before talking to you."


"You in pain?" I asked.


"Nope, just bored," he replied with a laugh.


I IM-ed The Russian to discuss our critical condition but before I could, he asked me a vital question:


"Why do you even talk to me?"


"I thought we were friends," I replied with a sigh.


There was this painful silence between us. I realized that trying to love a man who had the inoperable condition of being emotionally unavailable was another thing that didn’t need to be resuscitated. I pulled the plug on the one relationship I knew would take a lifetime of me supporting it to stay alive.


Later that night, as I danced with my friends in the middle of dance floor at The Library, I enjoyed myself more than before because I finally had clean bill of relationship health. And when that happens, the best thing to do is to dance and find a new, better person to play doctor with.