Occupational Hazard

Occupational Hazard

a play in one act
by
The Yearning Heart

dramatis personae:

Pati Ent, female, mid twenties, college grad. Intelligent, cute, good-natured.

Doctor Hand, male, late thirties, gynecologist. Charming, professional, gentle. Really good looking, but all business. Think of a straight Graham Chapman who looks like John Corbett.

Nurse Oyl, female, fifties or older. Has seen it all. (Or so she thought.)

Setting: The OB-GYN examining room. As the curtain rises, Pati Ent is having her vitals and stats done by the Nurse; throughout the following, she’ll be weighed and have her temp & BP taken.

Nurse: Looks good. Pressure’s good. You’ve put on three pounds, nothing to worry about. Looks like it’s all muscle anyway. You could kinda stand to put on a few more before you’d have to worry about anything.

Pati: What I’m worried about is my … my PC muscle.

Nurse: [distractedly, filling out the chart] You’ve been doing your Kegels?

Pati: Yes! yes, that’s just it. I first started to exercise them three times a day, and then I moved up to once an hour. Now it seems like … like they’re taking over. They’ll clamp down clench and grip and … and I won’t be able to unclench.

Nurse: [frowning] … hmm, well, it might be nothing, but when Dr. Hand comes in we’ll be sure and tell him about it. OK? [exit]

[Pati slips into the gown and sits on the examining table. Dr. Hand and Nurse enter.]

Doctor: Ms Ent? Hi… I’m Dr. Myron Hand. [reads chart] Ms Oyl says you’ve got a little muscle spasm going on?

Pati: Not really a spasm, more like a Vise-Grip, living in my cooter.

Doctor: Clamps down, eh? Any pain?

Pati: No, actually, it feels kinda good! but I am afraid when it won’t let go.

like a good cowgirl

Doctor: Lay down on the table there. Feet up in the stirrups, like a good cowgirl. Comfy?

[The examining table must be placed, for the sake of the actress’ modesty, so that we see from Pati’s point of view. We can only see the top of Pati’s head, and her knees open with her feet in the stirrups.]

Now, Pati, have you tried the Brazil nut test?

Pati: No, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it.

Doctor: Yes, trying to hold an object about the size of the common Brazil nut in your vagina, and squeeze it out. [puts on examining gloves] Think you can do that?

Pati: Oh, sure. Never tried it with a Brazil nut before.

Doctor: Well, it’s not necessary to use a Brazil nut [takes cellophane wrapped object from the nurse] but since I have plenty of these sterile surgical Brazil nuts [ripping the package open] we’ll just see how that involuntary spasm presents itself.

Pati: Sure.

[Doctor reaches under Pati’s robe and inserts the nut.]

Doctor: Now, just bear down on that, doing a Kegel, and try to use your muscles to push it out.

[sound: piece of plywood being ripped apart]

Doctor: Great Scott! Incoming! [He grabs the Nurse by the shoulder and forces her to the ground. Brazil nut shell fragments fly out from under Patient’s robe and fly over them, hitting the wall behind them and shattering the wall clock.]

Pati: I’m sorry, Doctor. I can’t control it anymore.

Doctor: [amazed and shaken] That’s … that’s all right, I’ve just never seen such … such tone.

[Pati is embarrassed.]

Doctor: [cont.] You’ve got to learn some control, there, Pati! [takes another surgical Brazil nut and unwraps it.] Now, let’s try it again and this time not quite so hard.

[Reaching under Pati’s gown, he places it and then stands back]

Nurse: [gets out two pairs of safety glasses and hands one to the Doctor] Better wear eye protection, first, Doctor. [These should be heavy-duty, military grade tinted green safety goggles.]

Doctor: Right you are, nurse. [They both don goggles.] Now, Pati, gently is the word here. Just try to slowly bear down, and …

[A cracking noise is heard, then crunching, then with, a loud bang, shell fragments come flying out. The two medical professionals hit the deck again. We hear the sound of nuts being chewed and swallowed. ]

a large shell fragment embedded in the lens of his safety goggles

Doctor: [Now he has a large shell fragment embedded in the lens of his safety goggles. He examines the damage to his room.] Only shells. Do you see that? No nutmeat. That thing has got to be stopped.

Nurse: What are you going to do?

Doctor: [dramatically] I’m … going in. [He opens Pati’s robe and, reaching forward, carefully probes with a gloved finger.]

Nurse: Be careful, doctor.

Doctor: It seems to have relaxed. … hmm… odd, it’s almost as if it ate the Brazil nut. It isn’t possible; there must be more Brazil nut in here -

[Suddenly, his finger is gripped and pulled in. The doctor grimaces in pain.]

Nurse: Pati! Let go! Stop it! You’ll break his finger!

Pati: I’m not doing it!

[a look of terror on the Nurse’s face, as she tries to extricate the doctor’s finger]

Doctor: [screams]

[The Doctor is being pulled in by his hand. His arm disappears within, then quickly he is sucked in with a wet slurp. The highly enhanced sound of a dental vacuum sucking up petroleum jelly would be good here, with appropriate bone-crunching effect.]

Pati: [horrified] Oh my God!

Nurse: [looks in] He’s gone.

Pati: [crying] I’m … I’m so sorry.

Nurse: There is nothing you could have done. [looks back in] [to herself] That thing is not of this world.

Pati: But … but what about Dr. Hand?

Nurse: [Still staring between Pati’s legs] Dr. Hand knew the risks when he majored in gynecology. [Pause] He was, after all, a professional.

FIN

"The sandwiches were stale, too."

I have not posted a dumb joke in so long:

A beautiful young aspiring actress was so depressed over her failed Broadway acting career that she decided to end her life by throwing herself into the ocean. But just before she could throw herself from the docks, a handsome young sailor stopped her.

“You have so much to live for,” said the sailor. “Look, I’m off to Europe tomorrow and I can stow you away on my ship. I’ll take care of you, bring you food every day, and keep you happy.”

With nothing to lose, combined with the fact that she had always wanted to go to Europe, the woman accepted. That night the sailor brought her aboard and hid her in a lifeboat. From then on, every night he would bring her three sandwiches and make love to her until dawn.

Three weeks later she was discovered by the captain during a routine inspection.

“What are you doing here?” asked the captain.

“I have an arrangement with one of the sailors,” she replied. “He brings me food and I get a free trip to Europe.”

“I see,” the captain says.

“Plus,” she adds, “he’s screwing me.”

“He certainly is,” replied the captain. “This is the Staten Island Ferry.”

The Irish Question

A woman went to Ireland to attend a 2-week company-sponsored training session. Her husband took her to the airport and told her to have a good trip.

The wife answered, “Thank you honey, what would you like me to bring for you?”

The husband laughed and said, “An Irish girl!”

The woman said nothing to that, but kissed her husband and left.

Two weeks later he picked her up in the airport and asked, “So, honey, how was the trip?”

“It was very pleasant, thank you.”

“And, what happened to my present?” he asked, smiling.

“Which present?”

“What I asked for… the Irish girl?”

“Oh, that? Well, I did my part, but now we’ll have to wait about nine months to see if it’s a girl.”

Time for a joke

I was going through my old archives from graduation year and I realize I used to tell jokes more often. This one is from Alicia who is now in Omaha, being a married woman. She says, “Here is how you handle people who won’t let you have a good time:”

A woman was at her hairdresser’s getting her hair styled for a trip to Rome with her husband. She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who responded, “Rome? Why would anyone want to go there? It’s crowded and dirty. You’re crazy to go to Rome. So, how are you getting there?”

“We’re taking Continental,” was the reply. “We got a great rate!”

“Continental?” exclaimed the hairdresser. “That’s a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they’re always late. So, where are you staying in Rome?”

“We’ll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome’s Tiber River called Teste.”

“Don’t go any further. I know that place. Everybody thinks it’s gonna be something special and exclusive, but it’s really a dump, the worst hotel in the city! The rooms are small, the service is surly, and they’re overpriced. So, whatcha’ doing when you get there?”

“We’re going to go to see the Vatican and we hope to see the Pope.”

“That’s rich,” laughed the hairdresser. “You and a million other people trying to see him. He’ll look the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You’re going to need it.”

A month later, the woman again came in for a hairdo. The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome.

“It was wonderful,” explained the woman, “not only were we on time in one of Continental’s brand new planes! but it was overbooked and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a handsome 28-year-old steward who waited on me hand and foot. And the hotel was great! They’d just finished a $5 million remodeling job and now it’s a jewel, the finest hotel n the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their owner’s suite at no extra charge!”

“Well,” muttered the hairdresser, “that’s all well and good, but I know you didn’t get to see the Pope.”

“Actually, we were quite lucky, because as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder, and explained that the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors, and if I’d be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me. Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me.”

“Oh, really! What’d he say?”

“He said, ‘Where’d you get the shitty hairdo?’”