I work for an accounting firm in the Ogilvie building downtown, so I usually take my lunch at the big CityCenter mall food court. The food court is on the opposite side of the mall from my building and I walk through the mall end-to-end almost every day on my way to lunch.
About six months ago, I was stopped by a young man wearing a lab coat who was hanging around the fountain in the center of the mall. He asked me if I liked beer.
It was a little startling, but I told him that I did, of course, like beer. After asking if I had a few minutes to spare, he invited me to take a taste test of a few different beers and give my feedback. He led down the hallway leading to the public restrooms, then to a small office that I never knew existed. With his assistant present, I sampled five or six different beers and answered a series of questions about each for him.
The whole thing took less than twenty minutes, and he gave me a coupon for some money off a case of beer at the supermarket. And that was that.
I secretly hoped I'd be approached for another interview since I was so amused by the beer tasting. And yesterday, I finally was. Far from amusing, this second interview was incredibly sexy and a real treat.
As I approached the fountain area when I was returning from lunch, I saw a beautiful young woman in a white lab coat. She had a clipboard with her, but I assumed she would be selling cosmetics for the anchor store that was at the center of the mall facing the fountains. When I was closer to her, I realized she didn't have any products. She made eye contact with me and stopped me when I approached her.
"Hi there," she said. She was a real looker, with short blonde hair done in a modern, spunky style. Under her white coat, she wore a black shirt and black pants, plus low black heels.
"Hello," I said as I stopped and faced her.
"My name is Tammy. I work for the Smith Research office here in the mall. Have you heard of us?"
"Yes, I have," I smiled, barely containing my excitement. "I did a taste-test earlier this year."
"Oh, the beer? Great, you're familiar with our company. Can spare some time to do another test for us?"
"I guess I can, sure."
"Well, I want to make sure you're able to participate. This test is pretty active, and it's a little more involved than the beer study. It can take up to two hours to complete."
"Gosh, that's a long time. Do you need me now?"
"We do. I'd really like to get this time-slot filled. We're not making much progress because we've had so many cancellations."
"Well, what the heck. I'll give it a shot."
"Oh, great! Let's walk to the survey area and I'll see if I can get some personal information from you as we go."
"Of course," I said.
While walking with Tammy, she asked for my name and address and noted them on a form on her clipboard. Her gait was fluid and controlled. She wasn't walking very quickly, but I could tell that she was very athletic and graceful even under her lumpy lab coat.
When we reached the survey office, she said she would be making sure everything was ready and would return in a few minutes. She asked me to wait, and handed me a business card. After Tammy disappeared into a door deeper in the office, I had a seat and glanced at the card. It identified her as Dr. Tammy Klein, PhD. Her job title was "Clinical Sexologist".
I was quite surprised, and had only just checked my astonishment when she reappeared in the waiting room.
"Okay! Come on back here with me and we'll finish our chat."
We entered the door she previously used, and I found myself in a hallway not unlike that at a doctor's office. There was a scale and a cart with some packages on it, but the space was otherwise empty. There were five doors, including the one we had just used. One of the doors, towards our left, was open.
Tammy led me to the open door as I tried to remember how the office had been set up for my beer tasting test. I didn't think it was this spacious or dramatic, but I didn't feel certain of my recollection.
I found myself in something of an examining room as Tammy closed the door behind me. There was a padded table with some tissue paper on it, just like at my doctor's office. I saw a couple of chairs, plus a plain but comfortable sofa with a large, square ottoman; a sink, and a counter with some equipment on it, too. Past the sink on the far side was another door.
"Did you have a look at my card, Joe?"
"Yes, I did."
"And you're wondering why you're being interviewed by a sexologist, right?"
"Yeah, I guess I am. I'm a little surprised. I guess we're not going to eat ice cream or have some beer, huh?"
She smiled. "No, we're not. This is the point where most people drop out of the interview, and I'm hoping you won't because you seem like a great candidate for us."
"I hope I can help you," I told her.
"Me, too. But don't be afraid to decline if you're not comfortable. I have to ask you a ton of personal questions before we proceed. But I can tell you now that we're testing a new product from Socrates. Are you familiar with Socrates?"
"The philosopher or the condom company?"
Tammy looked relieved. "The condom company," she said, as she flipped over her form and clipped it to her board. "They have an incredible new product. I can demo it for you and we'll talk about it a little bit. Then, I'd like to ask you to test it. Do you think you can help me with that?"
"Sure," I told her.
"Okay. Let's get the rest of the survey questions out of the way, first. Again, please think of me as a doctor—I am, you know. I normally do marriage counseling and try to help couples with their intimate lives. I'd like you to answer my questions as honestly as you can, but I also have to let you know that if I think you're being dishonest, we'll end the interview and I'll have to discount your participation."
"I'll do my best, Doctor Tammy," I said. I was trying to lighten the mood a bit. I was game for anything, and actually getting a bit aroused. Tammy was a little vixen, even if she was acting rather clinical at the moment.
The doctor threw cold water all over me with her first question: "Do you have now, or have you ever had, a sexually transmitted disease?"
"Uh, no."
And we went on from there. How many partners, last sexual intercourse, preferred method of birth control, frequency of intercourse, masturbation habits. It was a bit awkward at times, but I answered as best I could. They went on and on; children, discomfort urinating, ejaculate volume. Staying power, even—and I couldn't figure out how to answer that, so I just blathered on about feeling like I was always in control of myself, except sometimes. Trouble making an erection? And so on.
