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Dr. Wu makes an urgent house call to cure Charles' willie ag
Old Ang was a self-hating Chinese, subservient to the English out of a desire to be one of them. If Old Ang didn't recognize me from my previous visit, my disguise was perfect.
At the entrance to Patient C.'s apartment building, I walked past the ancient conci__rge towards the elevator. I was not surprised when Old Ang yelled at me, "Were you born stupid, young woman? You must check in with me. This building is occupied by English civil servants. Chinese are admitted only on business." I stopped, removed my sunglasses, opened my trench coat half way and poked one fishnetted leg in the old fossil's direction. I pouted my lips and said, "Isn't it obvious that I'm here for business with Patient C. and not for pleasure? Could you please ring up Patient C. and confirm that he has an appointment with Miss Lotus Blossom."
It was a pleasure to watch the confusion of this dried-up little man trying to make a call to a valued tenant and simultaneously undress me with his eyes. He stumbled and stuttered through his telephone call and then finally hung up. He beckoned to me and said: "Your appointment is confirmed Miss Lotus Blossom. Before you go upstairs, could I please obtain your telephone number? I believe that you and I could also, ummmh, transact some business."
Old Ang had hung himself like a barbecued duck hanging in a butcher's shop. He had fallen into the trap I laid for him. I merely pouted again and said: "Unfortunately, Miss Lotus Blossom confines her services to a clientele consisting of English civil servants who are less than 90 years old." With that, I closed my trench coat, turned and flounced towards the elevators, leaving Old Ang with his mouth wide open.
Upon entering Patient C.'s apartment, I slowly removed my trench coat to reveal my disguise as sensuously as possible. Patient C. appeared perplexed. "It's you, Dr. Wu. I can hardly recognize you. So you're the professional who is to take care of me." (Slide 12) I have another observation at this point. When a fantasy has been prescribed as part of the requisite therapy to counter relapse, the therapist must at all costs avoid a return to reality, as the reality includes a limp willie. Consequently, I said to Patient C., "I don't know who this Dr. Wu is. I am Miss Lotus Blossom from the Red Silk Escort Agency. Did the Agency mention my fee? I require HK$1000 up front, whereupon I will demonstrate to you Miss Lotus Blossom's abundant skills as well as her beautiful body."
Patient C. began to play along with the fantasy and indicated that he, indeed, had my fee in cash and would pay with pleasure. And that, esteemed colleagues, is the true story of how, very early in my research, I established the tariff structure for my clinic's services. I stuffed the bills in my tiny purse and threw it on top of my trench coat and set to work curing the relapse through intensive therapy. I made Patient C. comfortable on his sofa, sitting down beside him in as alluring a manner as I could. (Slide 13) This is another rule I give my therapists, "Ensure that the Patient is Comfortable."
With care to this principle, I slowly unbuttoned Patient C.'s shirt and slid my hand inside. (Slide 14) Of course, another rule I make for my staff is to "Warm Hands Prior to Touching Patient." Some competing clinics have lost older patients to heart attacks when their more mature willies were touched by cold hands. Hence the importance of this simple precaution.
When I had Patient C.'s shirt totally unbuttoned, I then began kissing his chest in the same manner as I assumed an attentive prostitute would. As a note to all practitioners in this field, the hair on the Caucasian male's chest can tickle the nose with disastrous results for oral sex if a sneeze should occur. For therapists whose nasal passages are easily irritated, I suggest 0.1 cc of Novocain injected at the tip.
I bared my own chest, pulling off my halter top.