The NHS in the UK offers free condoms to anyone who wants them, so I decided to pay my local clinic a visit to collect a few (For research purposes) and also to see what the fuss was all about, so read on anonymous freaks.
It was a lovely summer’s day as I entered my local hospitals grounds. As I walked through I noticed what seemed to be a small enclosed yard. It was actually a steel cage, and inside it had a basketball hoop where four or five guys walked around in circles, sadly mumbling to themselves with blank expressions whilst staring at the floor.
Got a cigarette mate? The guy said ‘shocking me out of my daydream’. He was wearing sunglasses that covered most of his face, had a bad limp and most terrifyingly, he came towards me at breakneck speed dressed in a dark overcoat, under which he wore a thick jumper. (It was nearly midday in the height of summer and fast approaching 30 degrees in the shade) and he clearly hadn’t shaved in weeks.
Nah bruv…..mi gives up. ‘I replied’ immediately switching to street talk, as the urban self defence mechanism kicked in. No problem. ‘He smiled’ and kept walking. It was then I noticed the sign. ‘Tottenham mental health unit’ it stated in big bold letters. I looked back at the cage reminiscent of the Shawshank Redemption. Looking around just as the penny dropped I realized Mr Limp had done a Houdini, just then a magpie startled me by landed next to me. It was my Q to get a move on and find the dam clinic.
Following the signage I found my desired location. ‘Sexual Health Clinic’ it read in yet more bold letters (So big they must be clearly visible from the Hubble Space Telescope). Luckily the doors were automatic so I didn’t need to touch anything (Ebola being all the rage now) as they swung open, allowing me into the seldom seen world of the STD clinic. Stand here until you’re called! The sign informed me, an arrow pointed at a white line on the ground to confirm this.
Looking around I saw there was a large waiting area, were a half a dozen men and similar amount of women were seated. Anyone I made eye contact with immediately lowered their heads towards the ground. Next! A rather unattractive young lady bawled from behind a Perspex window, and indicated for my good self to cross the fore mentioned white line.
Err, hello…can I get some condoms please? ‘I said confidently’. Sorry? Came the instant reply that I’m used to in London as ‘she ignored my question to try to dissect my accent’. I said can I……She got up without listening and opened a drawer and pulled out a large purple paper bag. She had figured out my accent, and thus finally downloaded the question.
Name? She asked as she returned and sat in her chair. Strangely I then felt the eyes of those seated behind me zoom in on the back of my head listening to every word. Date of birth? Postcode? There you go ‘she said’ passing the bag through a gap in the Perspex like I had answered all the test questions and had won a prize. I turned and everyone was still looking at the floor. One chap was biting his nails staring into space whilst a girl looked at me with an expression that said ‘I hope we never see each other again’ before going back looking down at her phone.
No privacy what so ever. Expected to let strangers know the purpose of your visit. Asked for personal details within earshot of strangers.
If this is the NHS’s idea of promoting safe sex, then I can I see why they have plenty of customers and will do for the foreseeable future.
Ken Roche is the author of ‘The Luke Steel Chronicles’ available via amazon.
ken1roche 