The CHIROPRACTOR

By A.J. Llewellyn

So my first and last day as a celebrity assistant, culminating in a fender bender resulted in a pretty sore neck for me that no amount of Motrin could assuage. My friend Tracy who got me the gig in the first place felt so guilty he insisted on calling the celebrity and demanding that she foot the bill for my chiropractic care.
Not only had I signed a confidentiality agreement, but when I arrived for my appointment yesterday at "Dr. Mike, Chiropractor to the Stars" office, I even had to sign a waiver, which in essence guaranteed I would not be suing her.
"We keep these on file," his secretary informed me. "She's a lousy driver."
After waiting for freaking ever, I was ushered into Dr. Mike's office, told me to sit on the massage table and immediately said, "I hear you write gay porn."
Oh, Buddha.
"No, I write gay erotic fiction."
"Whatever. I have a story your readers will love."
Now, I don't know about other writers, but this sort of thing happens to me a lot. To be honest, sometimes I do get incredible nuggets. But not this time.
I could not turn my head to the left, but this was where Mike chose to sit so I had to shift my whole body so I could look him in the eye.
"So I'm dating this chick and man I adore her. And she has a kid..."
Can you please look at my neck? Please? I'm in agony here. I tried not scream the words out loud. I tried to concentrate on not punching him in the mouth when he said, "...and the kid has given her worms."
"Worms?"
"Pin worms, actually."
"Pin worms?" I thought I was going to be sick.
"Yeah, once one kid in school gets 'em they all get 'em," he informed me. "So anyway, she called me and said I needed to get checked out since I love anal sex and as she put it, I'm down there for hours giving her head."
"Mike," I said. "Please, I don't want to hear this. This is not sexy. My readers don't want to read about worms."
"SHUT up! You're kidding me! It's real life, A.J. Come on, don't tell me you never went down on a guy and found little white worms crawling out of his ass. They come out at night, you know."
"No, never."
"Never?" He looked stumped. "You know a lot of guys get hepatitis from eating other guy's asses."
"Not in my books." I opened and closed my eyes. "My characters don't give each other...worms." I was trying to imagine Kimo going down on Lopaka and finding unexpected company.
Now I was getting worried. "Mike, I'm in agony."
"Hunnnnh," Mike said, sounding peeved. He stood behind me and poked and prodded around my neck until he hit a sore spot. His fingers dug into it.
"Lie down on your stomach," he said. And I did. He kept pressing down on my neck, his entire massive body rising from the floor each time he weighed down on me. He finally cracked my upper back and dragged me up by my arm.
"You can't lie in that position too long," he said. "Go sit in that chair."
I stumbled across the room and he followed me, circling me like a cougar.
"I really like this chick," he said. "But the antibiotics I now have to take make me shit my brains out. I haven't had a salad...no roughage for two weeks."
"Mike, I really don't want to hear this," I said as he stood behind me and suddenly twisted my neck with such force, I am amazed it's still on my shoulders. The collection of cracks I heard was deafening.
"Did that hurt?" he asked innocently, holding my head in his hands.
"You just broke my neck, Mike. Of course it fucking hurts."
"SHUT up! I haven't done that in 30 years. Now on the count of three I'm going to do the other side."
The bastard lied and cracked it on two.
"Your girlfriends must love you," I said.
"SHUT up! They fucking do. I miss my ex. Man we had some real piggy sex. We used to watch the Playboy Channel together." He grasped my arm and threw me back onto the table. He grabbed a jar of ointment and started massaging it into my neck.
"The Playboy Channel?" I asked. "Is it explicit?"
"Very. Well...they show squirting, but no male ejaculation..."
"Squirting?" I asked.
"Yeah, chicks squirt. You didn't know that?"
No, I did not. I was at a loss for words when he went on. "The other four channels are very explicit. They do show male ejaculation but no anal sex."
I grinned. "Oh, then I wouldn't enjoy that much."
He stared at me. "You're talking about gay anal sex, right? SHUT up! How can you watch that?"
"An ass is an ass," I shrugged. "I bet you couldn't tell the difference in the heat of the moment."
He looked pained. "SHUT up! I do NOT wanna be hammering some babe and looking down to see...balls."
"I do," I shot back.
Dr. Mike sent me home with a cervical collar, I am certain as a form of punishment for not diggin' his worm idea, and a demand that I return there today.
"A.J," he said, as he shook my hand goodbye. "I bet one of your characters comes up with worms."
He would lose the house on that bet. He got a funny look on his face and excused himself, running to the bathroom.
And I returned to my life, grateful my man Herve wasn't around to see me looking like Invalid of the Week. And I tried, oh so hard, not to think about...worms.

Aloha oe,

A.J.