Today I got a colonic irrigation.
It was both repulsive and absolutely fascinating.
Certain aspects of it were, of course, familiar to me, while other aspects were new and different. I am used to having phallic objects (and sometimes phalluses themselves) inserted in my body, for example, but usually it’s men who do the inserting. If you had told me even this morningthis was a spur of the moment decisionthat I would be paying a woman to shove what was essentially a dildo up my ass, I would have mocked you mercilessly.
But you would have gotten the last laugh.
I asked her how long she had been doing this. “Two years,” she said. “Before that I was a corrections officer.”
I can’t even begin to frame all the scenarios one might envision.
She said that colon hydrotherapy was her destiny. I thinkmy rational mind doubts that she actually said this, because what sane person could, but it’s what I’m rememberingthat she said she had been called to be a colon hydrotherapist.
On my way out, she gave me a badly photocopied handout about colon health. It contained things like blurry photographs of unhealthy colons and (annotated) essays by people writing in the Snake Handler Styleyou know, commas missing, eccentric capitalizations, that sort of thing. I quote:
“Our greatest enemy to health is constipation! I have No Cure For Constipation! . . . I think the toilet is the most abominable device ever invented in our civilization. We find that the Indians never had any rectal troubles; they had no hemorrhoid troubles whatsoever. Why? They squatted to defecate.” Portions of the text were underlined. Next to the underlined portions, someone had written things like “EVERY YEAR AMERICANS SPEND OVER 800 MILLION DOLLARS ON LAXATIVES. WOW! FRIENDS, THAT IS A LOT OF CONSTIPATION!”
But she had a really fabulous hat, so I’m going back.
Faustus, don’t forget to close italics in this entry [/i]. Also, congrats on the colon irrigation.
Italics should be fixed now. How strange–this is the second time my computer has failed to show me italics I’ve fucked up. It must love me very much, in a very dysfunctional way, to hide my mistakes from me and pretend everything is all right.
its so wierd that you woke up this am not expecting colonics and suddenly found yourself on a table with a corrections officer up your ass. what a story.
That is, one one hand, the oddest thing I’ve ever heard…Hmmm..what am I gonna do today? Hey, let’s hydrate my colon!
On the other hand…there are too many porno scenarios going on there…corrections officers with dildos handy. Sounds about as plausible as baggage claim agents with them in their desk…can anyone name that reference? 🙂
Ooooh, I want one. Can you recommend her?
But what did it FEEL like?
I used to work as a receptionist in a colonic irrigation clinic when I was a teenager…oh the stories I could tell!