Stripping in Public

Stripping In Public ©

By

Michael Casey

Well I missed my dental appointment yesterday, I was too tired due to Tinnitus and I had been up till 4am the day before so my body needed a rest. My small daughter had been on a trip to Italy so we waited up and then we got talking, her coach has not arrived till 2.30am. It was her first time to Italy and she had kept me up to date via text messages. Once home she was full of news, it was nice sharing it, and she had visited some places I had visited 20 or 30 years ago.

So today it was the Flu Jab, I’m of the age and weak health that it’s important to have it, so I made the effort to get up. I had a shower too, I did not want to stink out the nurse in the church hall when she gave me a jab. The local GP does a mass inoculation in the church hall for all the oldies, which now include me. So I put my fresh clean shirt on and my 3 jumpers with a coat on top and started down the less steep hill. I did have to have rest on the way, there was a chill in today’s air.

On arrival there was a gap in the mass ranks of the oldies arriving for the flu jab. So I thought I may as well have a bit of fun as I peeled off my clothes. So first I took off my woolen gloves, an waved them about, I followed with the pull and reveal down my back of my bright blue coat. Then slowly and seductively I peeled of my 3 jumpers. I could have been a stripper, if only I had an opportunity in this life. Gypsy Rose Casey,if only I didn’t have all my scars on my body, post bypass. The audience, my audience looked stunned. It was 1.30 on a cold afternoon, a Tuesday in a church hall, 6 medical staff and a young doctor were being treated to a stripper, an 18 stone very hairy stripper . Then the doctor said take your shirt off, so I was totally topless. I told him my chest hernia was like having a breast but without the fun. The 5 or was it 6 other female staff looked on agog, a stripper amongst them, so big fat and hair, with a cowpat of hair all brown on my shoulder, this being my birthmark.

All too quickly it was over, apart from one lady who sat with arms crossed throughout, maybe she was disgusted, or he nipples were too cold in the church hall, I decided not to ask.

Then in reverse I stripped, returning my clothes to my body. I did not get a pneumonia jab this year, one is enough for life. 7 more years I told them, if statistical probability was right, post bypass. Though I would love to screw the Pension fund by living till 100.

Then to their relief a final rush of pensioners arrived for the last 30mins of jab time. So I pottered down to the church and said a prayer, hello God remember me? Its a lovely arts and crafts designed church from 1880 I believe.

I spotted the nice lady I had spoken to 2 years ago maybe, and she held on to the shopping trolley full of donations for the needy. Either because she was afraid I’d steal it, or to prevent herself from swiping me, or throwing condensed milk at me.  It was the Born again Hippy as I had called her when I threatened to include her in a story when we last met. And yes she had read it, though she was such a nice lady she refrained from passing opinion on it, save for holding the shopping trolley, which could be a metaphor in itself.  

So I annoyed her with conversation but she did reveal her interesting past, on air ambulance returning sick people who had been taken ill abroad. She can also pronounce Welsh words correctly, and her dad was in the RAF hence she was schooled in 16 schools. All at the back of the church, while God looked on, maybe he wished I’d talk to him more instead of annoying his flock, the Mistress Tree Hugger.

An old man popped in to look at the church after his jab, he reminded me of Padre Pio, his son in law was Palestinian so I said I had Arab reader, so he should look for The Fat Silver Haired Writer, as this google search will find me, or The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker. They went away bemused, but I did guess right the son in law was a doctor, but not of medicine.

Then it was time to go, at the bus stop a guy in purple hair was listening to his head phones. So I said you must be listening to Prince’s Purple Rain, and no he did not punch me in the mouth, he just replied that was exactly what he was listening to. So that was my day, from stripping in public to being psychic.