I was a specimen this afternoon at an acupuncture college. Ten students — all female — asked me questions about my every ache and pain as well as my views on Alexander Technique and Kundalini Yoga.
It was the greatest high. There’s nothing I enjoy more than the attention of pretty young women.
I bet this was how Jesus felt when he headed into the desert with his disciples riding an ass while all of Jerusalem threw palm branches at him and sang hosannas.
There was also a male doctor in the room to make sure I wasn’t violating Judaism’s laws about secluding yourself with a woman.
And the whole thing was for the sake of science.
One student said I seemed pretty happy despite my excruciating back pain of the past ten days.
I lay on my stomach with my pants rolled up to my knees and my shirt around my neck while they all checked me out and oohed and aahed as the good doctor needled me and I made various pagan ejaculations about the pain.
Afterward, an Asian student asked me if I felt shy being in a room with so many women.
Shy is not the word. Would a drunkard feel shy in a bar full of quality free liquor? Would a glutton feel shy in front of a delicious and free ten-course meal? Would Bill Clinton feel shy meeting his new interns?
No, I did not feel shy. I felt like the King of the World.
