BACK TO SCHOOL

So there won't be any Uncle Bob next week, as I'll be going on yet another business trip � this time to a small town in Georgia for a weeklong marketing college.

I've known about this trip for about a month now. But yesterday morning as I drove to work, I thought to myself "You know � I have no idea what hotel I'm staying in once I get to Georgia."

So I get to the office and corner my boss in her office.

"Boss," I say in my most appealing tone of voice. "I was curious as to what hotel I'll be staying in during my weeklong visit to Georgia next week."

The boss nearly choked on her coffee from laughing.

"You're not staying in a hotel," she guffawed. "You're staying in a dorm, Dummy! This is a COLLEGE!"

Huzzah?!?

Whazzat?!?

Let me explain something here � I have a comfortable bed at home. With a wife and son whom I love very, very much.

And for one solid week, I'm going to be thrust into a dormitory setting where I have to share a bathroom and dorm room with complete freakin' strangers?

"Heh," I chuckled nervously. "No seriously � what hotel am I staying in?"

She reiterated � I will be attending classes in an actual classroom on a college campus. I will be sleeping in a single bed with concrete walls, no television and no wake-up service.

And I will be showering in a large room with several dozen strangers.

Now � I'm no homophobe. Not at all.

But there's a stipulation to that � I'm no homophobe while I'm completely dressed, as is the homo in question.

Put me in a community shower naked with other men and I get � hmmmm�a tad bit defensive about my ass.

Y'see � and I didn't know this until after I started working here � the field in which I work is predominantly a female-oriented industry.

The few males that are in the industry are � well � they're gayer than Richard Simmons leading a gay pride parade on Fire Island.

Once again, this doesn't bother me a bit.

You know � other than the fact that they're all damned good looking men and when I stand next to them, I look like 250 lbs of mashed potatoes in a suit.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not exactly worried about getting gang raped by a bunch of pretty boys in the shower.

But I just � I �. I don't wanna slap my Johnson and tushie out there on display for all the sistas in the showers to coo over.

Over the last several decades, I've kinda grown fond of showering by myself. Sure�there's the occasional group shower thing going since I have the largest shower stall in the state in my home, but other than that, I'm kinda a private guy who enjoys standing under a lukewarm stream of water and lathering up his pink loofah.

Yes.

I have a pink loofah.

And something tells me that pink loofah is going to get my ass in a world of trouble next week.

I'm bummed.

I KNEW that Playboy was featuring Heidi and Jenna from the last "Survivor" in an upcoming issue a few months ago.

I forgot about it though. Completely slipped my mind.

Then yesterday, I'm surfing around the web and run across something saying that they got nekkid in the August issue.

I began perspiring heavily as I read the article, the sweat trickling off my upper lip like sweat trickling off a fat guy's lip.

I checked my watch.

10:45 a.m.

Was it too early to announce that I was going to lunch, trip over my feet and speed recklessly across the city to the nearest Barnes and Noble to get a copy?

The answer was a firm and resounding "no".

10:48 a.m.

I'm in my car, honking madly as I barrel in and out of downtown traffic, screaming things like "Get out of my fucking way, you corpse wannabe!!", inching closer to the literary superstore.

I arrive there. I smooth my hair down, exhale sharply in my hand, inhale the scent�it's fresh.

I waltz in the store as if I'm just�you know�browsing.

I saunter over to the section that's marked with the huge "PORN MAGAZINES! NO ONE UNDER 18 ADMITTED EVEN CLOSE TO THIS AREA! BEWARE OF SLEAZY PERVS WHO PARTICIPATE FREELY IN THE EXPLOITATION OF YOUNG WOMEN WHO WIN MILLIONS OF DOLLARS ON REALITY TELEVISION SHOWS!"

I scan the titles until I see it.

"Playboy".

�The September issue.

My heartbeat rapids as I begin rifling through the supply of September issues, searching frantically for an errant August issue hidden behind the rest.

No avail.

Now � thanks to my total ineptitude to keep up with the schedules of chicks posing nekkid, I will NEVER be able to see Heidi's implants in all their bizarre glory.

I mean�let's face it � yes, the girl was emaciated on the show. But those dirty flesh pillows never once wilted.

And now � I'll never ever get to see them.

I'm sure they're nothing special. They probably look like every other boobie on this earth.

But I'm a pig.

And like every other man on this earth, we're on a quest to gaze at as many naked women as we can before we die.

And if a man tells you different, he's not only a liar, but a damned liar.

Or he could be gay.

Which means he'll be hiding in the showers next week, waiting on me.

Preying on me.

Yep.

And the only weapon I will have is my pink loofah.

"Back! Get back, Bruce! Or I shall slay you with my pink loofah!!"

Yep.

I'm gettin' boo-foo'ed next week.

I get the feeling I'll have no choice in the matter.