About Face – Part 2

If you’ve read Saving Grace Part-1, you’d know that two of my best friends have been encouraging me to have a little work done, which is how I came to be nervously sitting in Dr. M’s Zen like reception room along with 300 orchids I competed with for oxygen.

“It’s cheerful, don’t you think,” asked Camille when I started to gasp.

“Oh yes, that’s exactly what I was thinking,” I said, looking longingly toward the exit.

“Relax,” said Camille, “you will absolutely adore him.”

Yeah, yeah, I thought to myself. I had visions of a little man with one too many veneers crisscrossing my face with a number two pencil. As I idly wondered if any woman ever committed suicide after a consultation, the door swung open and instead of a nurse there stood Dr. M who, in his 30s, looking more like a rock star than a surgeon.

“Won’t you come in,” he asked, after kissing Camille like a long lost groupie.

“I’ll be right here when you come out,” she said, giving my arm a little squeeze. “Have fun.” Fun? It felt as though I was going to the chair with an overly cute executioner. I had a huge urge to pop into the ladies room to apply emergency gloss but Camille had instructed, no make-up. “He needs to see the real you,” she said, “so he can properly assess the damage.” She made me sound like a crime scene. He led me into an office that was filled with American history books. Why were there so many on FDR – could Eleanor have been a patient? Let’s see, that would make him around 95 years old. Well, that’s surgery for you.

“I see you’re perusing my book shelves,” Dr. M said while running slender fingers through his wavy blonde hair.

“You caught me,” I said, naked from the lips up.

“I love history,” he said, “one could say it floats my boat.” Hmm, I thought, I use that expression myself. Speaking of boats, as we proceeded to discuss The New Deal at length, I suddenly started having surprise sexual stirrings beneath my Polo seersucker sailor skirt. Camille was right, this guy is good. I feel fiendishly 55 again. When he suggested we move to the examination room, I was afraid I’d leave a moist mark on the seat of my chair.

“I hope you don’t mind, but my nurse is at lunch.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” I said, my voice dropping like Bea Arthur’s.

“You know Susannah,” he said, after helping me onto the table, “you do look exceptionally phenomenal for your age.” My thighs and I began to blush.

“I would think that a man in your profession would know that a woman hates to hear that she looks good for her age,” I said, secretly not minding hearing it from him.

“Well, I try to tell the truth and it’s not often I’m able to say that.” I knew if I wasn’t careful I was going to slide right off the table.

“I have to admit,” I said, surprising myself, “you’re not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“Hmm, less hair, older, not to mention looser pants and so far you haven’t turned my face into a map of Idaho. I’d like to thank you for that.”

“You’re very funny,” he said, “I like a woman with a sense of humor.”

“You don’t say.”

“And by the way, you’re not what I expected either.” (Jesus, what did Camille tell him).

“I feel though Susannah that I should warn you, I never date my patients. It’s a rule of mine…(not only is he sexy, he’s ethical too…dammit)

“but what if I could convince you it was still too early to start tiding up, as our friend Camille likes to say?”

“But what about my bags?”

“We can check them,” he said grinning.

“I can see you have a sense of humor too.”

“Tell me, seriously, how much do they really bother you?”

“To be honest, they bother my friends more than they do me. I didn’t even know I had them till 8 o’clock last night. I just thought I was looking a little pooped.”

“You know what you need?”

“A coupon?”

“A nice, long, quiet dinner with me – how about tonight?” Wow, if I had known consultation was like this I would have been consulting long ago.

“I am quite a bit older than you,” I said, feeling the need to confess. “Doesn’t that concern you just a little?”

“Not in the least…I love older women – I find you all so fascinating.” (omigod..was he dropped on his head?)

“You don’t say.” A few minutes later I floated back into reception.

“I was all set to order lunch,” said Camille, looking at her watch, “what the hell were you doing in there all that time?”

“Discussing The New Deal.”

“What, he gave you a deal? So I guess that means you have an appointment.”

“Oh, I have an appointment alright,” I said, deciding I loved orchids. “He’s picking me up at 8.”

I wish you could have seen the look on Camille’s face…and this time Botox had nothing to do with it.

SB

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About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
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18 Responses to About Face – Part 2

  1. Woo Hoo! I have no doubt you are the first woman to stand in that office and noticed his book collection. I’m elated!
    But, seriously you should have been prepared to get a shot of Camille’s face, that could have been very useful in the future.

    Like

    • I love Camille, and one of the main reasons is we’re nothing alike…yet I wish I could be more like her…easy breezy with an elegant edge. She believes in staying on top of things, but the doctor wasn’t one of them. I think she nurtures a little crush but as I reminded her, he does not date his patients which is great salve for the ego since he never asked her out. As I just told Alice, he was too young for me.

      Like

  2. storyofalice says:

    Way to go, Susannah! Looking forward to Part 3.

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    • Hmm Alice, I haven’t written part 3…I think my Connecticut correctness came out…not polite to talk about your dates though I have in the past. He’s very young…cute as a button…but frankly even with his history books, I was a little bored something that happens easily to me. I could be home reading one of those books since polite smalltalk isn’t my strong suit…he’d be great for you…and you’re so beautiful Alice that you won’t ever need a shot, unless it comes in a short glass. Thanks for writing.

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  3. skinnyuz2b says:

    Wow! What a great exam! I once had a younger optomitrist make a play. Unfortunately, he did it by casually rubbing and bumping his body against my protruding knees … while my husband was in the waiting room! And the guy did NOT look like a rock star. He then came out with me and told my husband how beautiful I was (I think my dr. needed new contacs) and how lucky hubby was. On the plus side, it kept my husband on his toes for a while. I did switch drs.

    Like

    • You are beautiful Skinny…he just couldn’t control his non-medical impulses. Men…I was on Jury Duty for two days and this old lawyer was so flirty after he dismissed me from his jury selection that I wanted to say, be careful sir or you’ll be forever immortalized in print…I really need to write a piece about being forced to sit in a room against one’s will…patriotism just goes so far.

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  4. katecrimmins says:

    This is hysterical! First I am happy to know that you can still wet a chair with desire! Thank God for hormones! Sounds like you are perfect the way you are!

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    • Acceptance is the key I think. Camille would disagree and say, plastic is but…I’d rather look a little weary than like a frying pan. I think NY plastic surgeons are very aggressive by nature. You should see what sashays down the Avenue…you’d run.

      Like

    • As far as hormones go…it’s like a hide and seek…one minute they’re AWOL the next out on the town…at least that how is with mine. 🙂

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  5. Lisa says:

    If you can pick up a much younger guy, I think you’re perfectly fine as you are. I had a good giggle at the end.

    Like

  6. Vasca says:

    Now THAT’S an exam for the books…out of the Dr’s history books. Wonder how many times he’s pulled those lines out? Oh well, worth ‘a shot’…of something more interesting than Botox, enjoy!

    Like

  7. D. D. Syrdal says:

    You go, girl! You never know, maybe he’s Dr. Who, a Timelord, and will never age 😉

    Like

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