Girlfriend-TJ asked me to accompany her to her GYN appointment this morning. Not knowing why -- all dirty talk aside, it is HER vagina afterall -- but wanting to be supportive, I drag my ass out of bed at 7:00 a.m. on a morning that didn't require my wakeful presence until 10:00 a.m. Since we're planning a venue change to her place tonight I had my shit packed (no homo) and ready to go; she, on the other hand, still has half her wardrobe strewn about my room and makeup all over the bathroom. We're running late (READ: she's running late) for the bus that takes us right by the doctor's office and she looks at all her unpacked belongings with a dismissed remark, "Oh, well... I don't have time for this. You can clean it up and bring it over later." ...never mind the fact that I have a busy-as-fuck afternoon and evening and wasn't planning on trudging my ass back across town.
Fine. Whatever. I'll come home for the express purpose of transporting your garbage.
Of course, we miss the bus due to her tardiness so walk the 15 minutes to the train; wait for the train; cram into the train; take the hospital stop and walk the 10 minutes to the hospital. We still have just enough time to get her in to do the requisite paperwork before her scheduled appointment. Then she drops this bombshell: "I don't know where the appointment is." Me being me and her obviously being a bumbling nincompoop, I grab my phone, GPS up the doctor's name and office, and find that we're not even close -- not even in the same neighborhood. She assumed, since her insurance listed the doctor with the affiliated hospital, that the doctor was actually IN the hospital. In fact, the doctor's office is a quick 10 minute walk from my house.
Soooooo, not seeing any buses, I lead her on the 25 minute walk to the proper location of her appointment. Towards the end of the walk, I could tell she was frustrated with me and I asked why. Apparently I'm not being supportive and she should have never asked me to come with her (as if that's some sort of punishment to me).
Now I'm sitting in the waiting room typing up this ranting diatribe bemoaning the waste of a perfectly good morning. I hope the GYN's tools were stored overnight in the freezer.