McSexy reaches for the sphygmomanometer on my arm and pulls the Velcro cuff open, causing a cringe-worthy sound similar to a hairy man getting his back waxed. "What are you doing?" he asks, seemingly both bewildered and amused.

I grab his biceps to focus his attention on the importance of what I'm about to say, when--

Oh my God, I think to myself, gently squeezing his arm muscles. McSexy's biceps are hard, shapely and hot beneath my fingers. For a split second, I try to imagine what it would feel like to be cradled inside the protective embrace of similar limbs, defined abs and pecs that go on for days. Unfortunately, my brain malfunctions while replicating a believable scenario in my imagination. Despite having fistfuls of sexy man-flesh in my grasp, my mind can't bridge the gap between a harlequin romance cover and real life experiences. At this point in time, my personal knowledge of man-cuddling is limited--existing somewhere behind the adjective wall of scrawny, squishy and pillow'ish. Clearly, like attracts like.

Placing the sphygmomanometer on the counter, McSexy asks, "Why aren't you in your room?"

I squeeze his biceps a few more times. My partially open mouth patiently waits for a response from my fashionably late voice box--again. Damn it, woman! Focus!

McSexy holds up an index finger. "Actually, hold that thought." He points to his clipboard. "I need to log this in the computer. Pharmacy is slow tonight."

I release my grip on McSexy's arms and watch the handsome nurse strut down a nearby hallway. That ass, my inner fangirl squeals. Oh. My. God. THAT ass!

Glancing over his shoulder, McSexy instructs with a chuckle, "Get back in your room. Now!"

I step off the knickknack scale and hesitate for a moment, straining my ears for possible sounds of Bubbles's return. Nothing. Only the distant noise of--I don't know--medical and healing stuff? Screw it, I think to myself. McSexy's fine. Everything's fine. You're worrying about nothing.

Just as I'm about to return to my examination room, a door opens and SilverFox emerges eating a frosted sugar cookie. We both freeze. He appears confused as to why an unescorted patient is in an employee only zone. I'm straight up--scurred. My heart's pumping so fast, it feels as though my neck is pulsating and my body temperature has been turned up to broil.

"Does your Urgent Care Team know you're out here?" he questions.

"Gotta pee," I blurt out, plagiarizing the excuse my preschoolers use when they're tired of listening to me during circle time. "I saw the bedpan in my room, but--no fucking way."

SilverFox's eyes twitch as the f-word drops. Given the fact I withdraw in his presence, even I'm surprised I flung the word bomb at him. "There was no one to assist you?" he questions with an air of suspicion.

Nervous rambling, my inner voice of fear suggests. Distract him with nervous rambling. "I was given directions to the restroom," I lie. "Good directions. Tremendous directions. But I'm terrible with directions. North? East? Street names? Might as well talk Martian to me. Boing-cha-cha-moo-wah!" SilverFox attempts to respond, but I cut him off. "I need landmarks. Lots of landmarks! You know? Stuff like: when you leave your room, take a left. Walk till you see a gonorrhea poster on your right, then take another left. Immediately after passing the La Urgent Care Spa, you'll see a man getting a chipmunk removed from his asshole. The restrooms are just across the hall."

Our eyes lock in an awkward staredown. SilverFox holds his cookie like a Keebler Elf statue. I'm holding my legs together like a nervous preschooler in serious need of a potty break. Yeah--these nerves have turned into a sudden need to take a piss. If one of us doesn't surrender in this game of eye-chicken soon, it may be my bladder that ends up surrendering.

I tap my index finger to the corner of my lips. When SilverFox doesn't respond, I do it again. "You have something--"

With furrowing brows, SilverFox's eyes squint causing his forehead to wrinkle. He appears confused by my attempt to communicate via the universal sign for you have something on your face, noob.

"You have pink frosting in the corner--there," I clarify, continuing to tap the corner of my mouth.

Doc Fox's tongue makes a swift sweep along his bottom lip from one side to the other.

At first I shudder. When an attractive man throws down his narcissist card for everyone to see, he instantly becomes a creep'toid. SilverFox is definitely a handsome creep'toid. But then it hits me. Oh my, God! I whisper from within. That just happened! I made a medical hottie lick his lips! "HA! I can't believe I did it!" Mission accomplished!

"Can't believe you did what?" SilverFox questions.

Wait. Did I say that out loud?

"Gotta pee," I repeat, bouncing in place to emphasize the urgency. Let's face it, four year olds are brilliant. This line is a slam dunk for escaping uncomfortable or boring situations. Who's going to sit and argue with someone doing the pee-pee dance?

"Down the hall," Doc Fox says, pointing his non-cookie holding finger. "First left."

"Thanks." Before he can respond, I turn on my heel and bounce on my tippy toes down the hall--hand clutching my hospital gown together in the back.

As I'm half way to my destination, SilverFox calls out, "Can't believe you did what?"

I should pretend I didn't hear him, but the Pee Goggles seem to be interfering with the Mortification Goggles' reception. The moment's a bit staticky. It's quite possible I'm not thinking as clearly as I should be. In any case, I muster up every ounce of dignity and courage within me. Then slowly, I turn to face the silver haired man with an ugly interior masked by a gorgeous face.

Starting from my head, I outline my body in my version of seductiveness. Granted, most would interpret my seductive dance as slapstick comedy, but at least I'm making an effort. In any case, as my hands are sliding down the perimeters of my curves I say, "This--"

Raising one arm out towards SilverFox, I point to him and say, "Made you--"

Then throwing that same arm up in the air while simultaneously turning towards the restroom, I finish with the words, "Lick your lips."

Completely forgetting the diaper-like folds of my granny panties are now facing the Doc, I sway my hips from side to side as I walk towards the restroom. When it dawns on me me my hospital gown is wide open, I take off running on my toes down the hall until I get to that first left. Eager to disappear from sight, I leap around the corner--smacking right into PamPam's breasts.

*****McSEXY BREAK*****

Our lady and PamPam in the restroom together? This could be fun.

MUSIC: Katharine McPhee. Lick My Lips.

Your vote is truly McAppreciated. Muah!

MarilynHepburn.com