Orange-You-Glad-I-Didn't-Say-Banana?

So this one happened about 3 months ago.  Friday afternoon.  I receive an email from a dear female friend of mine: 'Mike, come to an erotica art exhibit with me tonight.  I know you'll keep me entertained.'  Random?  Extremely.  But who could say no to an offer like that?  Little did she know just how right she was.

After several hours of grueling suspense, evening finally rears her head.  I throw on a yellow button-down shirt.  I hope I don't look too much like a banana.  Oh well.  At least I'm a good source of potassium.  I meet my friend at the Dupont metro, and we head over to Georgetown.  We spend some time meandering around the C & O Canal (pun intended!), and we finally find the art gallery nestled on a Georgetown side street.   We walk through the entrance, and make our way past a small crowd.  My jaw dropped at the sight that lay before my eyes.  Nobody had prepared me for what lay just several feet in front of me.  'This can't be happening', I thought.  There was free wine!!!  Giggity!

I wake up naked in the C & O Canal the next morning.  Just kidding...I hope.

Ok, so really, after 2 cups of boxed sangria, my friend and I make our way around the art exhibit.  We approach a photograph of a topless, well-developed woman.  "Oh, look, she's a 5 on the Tanner scale of breast development", my friend says.  Yup, we're definitely med students.  She then explains to me the characteristics of each stage of breast development.  Sweet.  I learned something new, AND I got free wine...what a night!  Just past the gigantic photograph of the labia (which was larger than me), we saw the main exhibit.  There were 5 artists; each artist was busy creating a new painting, right there in the gallery.  But instead of using canvass, the artists were painting naked people.  There was 1 young, beautiful woman being painted, as well as 4 middle-aged, out of shape men.  Well, there's something I've never seen before.

About 5 minutes later, 2 naked women walk through the crowd and stand on top of a podium, ready to present an award to some artist.  I was excited to make use of my new piece of medical knowledge.  "Oh, look, they're both fives!", I say.  Amongst my excitement, my voice was much louder than I intended.  Given my luck, I spoke at the exact moment as an awkward silence fell upon the crowd, just as the 2 women prepared to present their award.  I'm pretty sure most people in the gallery heard what I said.  And I'm don't think they knew I was referring to the Tanner stage of breast development.  Aaaaawkard!  Shit.

A few minutes later, my friend and I are walking around the exhibit some more, and the place gets somewhat crowded.  We weave in and around other people, in attempt to see the remaining paintings and photographs.  I feel someone gently tap my left shoulder.  I turn around, and find myself face-to-face with a naked, freshly painted, middle-aged, out of shape man.  All he says to me is, "By the way, there's now orange paint on your back."

What!?

2 weeks later.  I'm at work.  I spend the day performing physical examinations on patients, drawing blood, administering vaccinations, and the like.  The day draws to an end, and I head over to The Brickskeller with my friend slash co-worker.  We need a drink like woah.  I flip through the menu: Lagers and Tia Maria and beers, oh my!  My friend says to me, in a totally nonchalant manner, "Oh, by the way, I've been meaning to ask you this all day.  What the hell is on your back?"  I look at my shirt.  I'm wearing a yellow button-down.  It finally dawns on me that my friend is referring to the large orange spot on the back of my yellow shirt,  the same yellow shirt which I totally forgot to have dry-cleaned.

I crack up.  "I could tell you, but you probably won't believe me", I say.