Editor’s note: The following is a continuing journal of a fictional college student. It is intended to be a humorous and enjoyable feature about an average Joe. It runs weekly, on Fridays. Though written by Iowa State’s own Scott Jacobson, a Daily staff writer, people, places and events detailed below are not analogous to a real student.

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January 24, 1997

So there I was, sitting in the waiting room of the doctor’s office last week, wondering what hell awaited me in what was to be a routine physical, as I thought back to the ghosts of examinations past.

There were the years I faced my crippling fear of needles by thinking of my own happy place, the times I couldn’t pee on command into that little cup and the first time I heard the doctor utter the command that every young, insecure school boy dreads: “Now turn your head and cough.”

Once the nurse took me back to the examining room, I was directed to sit on a thing too flat to be a chair, too small to be a bed and too high to be a bench. After being instructed to wait for the doctor, the nurse mentions in an off-hand sort of way, “By the way, sometimes the doctor has a medical student sit in on examinations. Is that a problem?”

Not being one to stand in the way of education, I just shrugged and replied, “Not a problem.” She then told me to strip down to my undies and put on a robe made entirely of tracing paper and then she added, “Oh, I forgot to mention, the medical student is female. Is that a problem?”

Not being one to stand in the way of gender equity, I just shrugged and replied, “No, no, not a problem at all.” Just like that, she was gone, and I began disrobing and worrying about this mystery female that was about to get an intimate peek into my life, among other things.

So there I was, lounging on the chair/bed/bench in my boxers and the single-ply robe that fastened in back, tying the knots and checking them twice to make sure they were tight. There was a bit of a draft that I hadn’t noticed before.

When the doctor and la femme medicina entered the room, I breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn’t a former girlfriend or, worse yet, a former girlfriend’s mom. Then they got the party started right.

The first thing Doc decided to do was check my lungs, apparently in search of the source of my hot air. Evidently, he figured the back of my lungs would sound better than the front so he came around behind me and (remember those knots in back that I had tied so tight??) he proceeded to untie my only sense of closure to listen to the sounds of my back.

When he got done with that, he instructed me to lie back on the chair/bed/bench so that he could check out my abdomenal region. Now I’m thinking that I’ve got a chubby tummy, but if he wants to check out my abs, I’ll let him.

But then he decided to get a better look so he threw the bottom of my now un-fastened robe up over my face.

So there I was, lying down on the chair/bed/bench with my face covered noticing that draft in a few new places wishing I had buttonfly drawers.

After he got done poking my belly for a while, with the med student at his side admiring my well-formed beer gut in the open air, he told me I could sit back up and get to my feet.

The time had come for the inevitable.

“All right, if you’ll just drop your drawers, I’ll check you really quick for a hernia.”

So there I was, shorts around my ankles turning a profile shot and admiring the doc’s firm grip when I realized that the whole time the med student had been behind me, my lack of rear closure was giving her a butt shot that would have made Patrick Swayze proud.

After the first few coughs, she came back around to be seated by the doctor and after he had ruled out any possibility of a hernia, he assured me that I could pull my drawers back up.

I breathed a sigh of relief, bent down to grab my grunts and (remember those knots that got untied??) WHOOOSH — down went my robe on top of my shorts, leaving me as nature intended: buck naked in front of the world, unable to do anything but look at the wide-eyed medical student and smile my sweetest smile.

So there I was, standing on my clothing making my private parts public when I decided I’d had enough fresh air, so I reached to the floor for my drawers. Only problem was that I was standing on my skivvies.

As I picked one foot up, the other would take its place until I was doing a primitive form of a naked fire dance.

Finally, I just picked up my boxers, stepped through them just like I do every morning and found my seat back on the chair/bed/bench and made myself comfortable.

The doctor, the polite man that he is, picked up my discarded robe and offered it back to me. “Here, would you like to put this back on? Would you be more comfortable?”

And as I thought about the events that had just unfolded, I just shook my head and shrugged and said, “Not a problem.”

So there I was, sitting spread eagle in my grunts wondering if I was going to be on America’s Funniest Hospital Videos or show up on Skinemax Undercover and all I could think to myself was:

Making friends is easy when you can dance around the room wearing nothing but a smile.