“Oh ok.” I realised later she’d misheard me and thought I was at a “facial health clinic”. Whatever that means.

“Corin… born on January 2^nd.”

“Olá.”

I followed Dr. Krystal to her office and took a seat. She was about 28. She had spiked bleached hair everywhere in a sort of dyke style. When she said “sex” I thought she was from New Zilland, but I never asked.

“So… it says here you’ve had three partners in the last three months.”

“Yah.”

“All females or guys aswell?”

“Just girls.”

“Any from overseas?”

“Ah, there was an English girl.”

“And the twelve from the past year? Any from overseas?”

“Ah… hmm…”

“Any from say, South America, Asia, Africa…?”

“Oh… No.” I felt like I was missing out.

“So you have a few sores on your penis?”

“Yeah. Hey do you need a sample, because I really need to pee?”

She laughed. “Sure. Take this cup and fill it halfway. We need the first part of your urine.”

I had been tempted to go to the toilet beforehand and cut it off midstream, just to relieve the pressure. But I knew that there was something different about the first bit of piss that came out. I remember telling my brother:

“You know, Indian yogis drink their own pee. They wake up in the morning, take a piss… The first part they throw away… the second part, they drink. It has an anesthetic effect.”

“Their pee comes in parts in India?”

I half filled the cup.

“So is there any discharge from the penis?”

“Sure, sometimes after I pee, semen leaks out.”

“How do you know it’s semen?”

“Because it looks like semen.”

“Hm, okay. Now,” she pulled back the curtain. I guess they have these things in case anyone bursts in, eager to offer cookies straight from the oven or something. “Take your pants and underwear down to your knees, and sit down. That’s fine, now lay back.”

I lay back and saw the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. “I feel like I’m about to be abducted by aliens.”