Post-vasectomy I was supposed to provide a semen sample to the lab so that they could count, or rather not count, my sperm. Two samples, the first one after a couple of weeks, the second one a couple of weeks later. Or something like that.
They let me produce the sample at home. They gave me a clear vial to catch it in, then I had to seal it and deliver it to the lab within one hour. I look at a map while I think to myself that I need to get a bike ride in this week. This looks like the perfect distance, I could probably bike it in about half an hour and get a good work-out in.
The deed gets done, and the timer starts. Sixty minutes.
Well I’m not going to rush out that door, I need a few minutes to relax. Whew. Ten minutes of relaxing. I get on my bike, 50 minutes to go.
Its summer time, the ride should be easy. And then, about half way there, I see the hills. Damn, I forgot about the hills! There were no hills on the map!
Up the hills I ride. Time is running faster than I expected. I must ride faster. It’s hot. Time is running out. Bike faster!
I’m a sweater, and I’m sweating. Badly. My T-shirt is soaked from top to bottom. Completely drenched in sweat.
Forty minutes of grueling riding and I make it there. Ten minutes to spare. I run to the counter of the lab, soaking wet, and … NO!!! There’s a line. I take out my sample, my sample in the clear vial. I didn’t think to bring anything else to put it in. Just a clear vial, with a squirt of semen.
Its obviously not anything else that anyone can mistake it for. Its my fucking semen, what else can I pretend it is? My spit?
I place it on the counter. It sits there, naked, and waits along with me. The cute girl in front of me glances over at my “sample”, then away. The woman behind the counter lets it sit there. What the fuck is wrong with her?
She knows what it is. She nonchalantly puts it away, looks up at me, and notices that I am soaking wet. “Oh” she says to me, “did it start to rain?”.
We both look out the window. It’s sunny, not a cloud in the sky. “No ….ummmm ….. I’m just tired and out of breath.” I run away.
Wow, that was embarrassing. There will be no second sample.