Here at the Happy Hands Ranch, we like to keep our hands happy. And busy. Because if there's one sure way to find trouble, it's allowing Starr Ann to get bored. When Starr Ann (hi, Starr Ann), Jodie and I had a few minutes yesterday evening with nothing particular to do, Starr Ann rescued us from ennui by suggesting we try to get on the local call-in radio program.
First time she phoned, when the screener asked what she wanted to talk to Dr. Cummin about, Starr Ann said, "I'd like to know what Dr. Cummin thinks about the imminent US strike at Iran's nuclear facilities." The screener got rid of Starr Ann real quick.
She gave them one more chance to stand on their hind legs. Second call, she asked about discussing the failures of the Federal Reserve and Congress with respect to the mortgage default crisis and the fact that subprime lending has been around for enough years that an infant could have spotted the repercussions that were bound to hit eventually. That time, they simply hung up on Starr Ann.
Third time was the proverbial charm. Starr Ann gave Jodie back her cell phone and used mine, in case they had her flagged. Starr Ann always thinks of those types of angles. So, anyway, this time Starr Ann said, "I want, I need to talk to Dr. Cummin about how I've been faking my orgasms."
Jodie and I saw Starr Ann's eyes light up as soon as the screener had a second to digest that, and she snapped her fingers then made the okay sign. We were gonna be on the show for sure.
They quick got rid of the current caller who had some problem with health insurance or something, and came back to Starr Ann right away.
"Hello, this is Dr. Cummin."
"Dr., I need to talk to somebody about how I've been faking orgasms."
Dr. Cummin has a real pretty voice. "Oh, dear. Of course you do. Now, when did this start?"
Starr Ann sighed big before speaking, kinda shaky like. "About two years after my girlfriend and I got together. It's okay that I'm gay, right? You'll still help me?"
You could just about hear Dr. Cummin tallying the show's ratings in her head. "Why, of course we can still talk. What did you say your name is, sugar?"
"Sugar."
"Well, Sugar, why do you think it is that you're not having real orgasms anymore?"
"I have them. But only when I'm alone."
"Perhaps you should start at the beginning."
"Right. See, after a coupla years together, we both kinda let ourselves go and don't really have much to talk about. Which is fine. I mean, I'm not really interested in trying that hard anymore. But the thing is, I've had the decency to reduce all that sexual effort and time by bringing things to a quick close, if you know what I mean."
"Go on, Sugar."
"But my girlfriend simply does not get it. How do I signal to her that I'm just pretending, so she'll catch on and do the same? I've tried being super fakey, coming unrealistically hard just about the second she touches me. Not a clue. I've tried making her work, work, work, until I just about fall asleep and forget all about staging the closure. Nothing. So, Dr., what am I to do? I always dreamed of a push-button long-term relationship where everything gets real convenient. How can I make that dream a reality? Please, Dr. Cummin."
They had to take a commercial break, and since it was time to go top off the horses' waters and run with the dogs one more time before bed, we never did get to hear Dr. Cummin's answer. At least this time, I was in on the fun. Remember Starr Ann's last phone prank?
On the other hand, the radio station has my cell number on their caller id.
