As an unemployed, uninsured and un-willing-to-start-popping-out-spawn female, I ventured to the gloriously under-budgeted PPNYC yesterday for a supply of no-baby pills.
Cheesy brochures like “Am I Ready Yet?” littered the cheap furniture while the fluorescent-bathed, yet unfortunately familiar waiting room housed me for 2 hours before I got called. Yes, I had an appointment, but I forgot about the mandatory waiting period, like the DMV (fun tip: always bring a book and/or PSP when PPNYCing).
BEHIND THE CURTAIN:
As you can tell, the PPNYC is home to sluts, whores and poverty-stricken women (myself included…the poverty part…) of all colors, shapes and sizes. I timidly glance at the girls in between page flips and secretly wonder how many of them have incurable diseases…down there. Gross.
(*PICTURE REMOVED AT REQUEST OF PPNYC, apologies that you can no longer see some really, really bored looking women.)
If this isn’t enough warning to stay employed, insured and away from PP, be my guest. Just remember, their disgruntled staff strictly enforce the only rule – no fun allowed.
2 Comments
April 6, 2009 at 2:08 pm
Fabulous shit you’ve got here. Impeccable writing that puts my syntactically-challenged me-shrine to shame. You’re going on the blogroll. I feel like such a fucking geek for writing that.
My one suggestion: This site needs more gratuitous swearing.
April 6, 2009 at 2:16 pm
Badass, thanks so much! I’ll return the favor…