Compensation is not a new American practice.

As part of my quest to be the longest working employee that UPS has ever seen, I must renew my DOT license every two years. Don't ask what DOT stands for, because you're reading this on a computer, and it's not likely that I would be able to hear you. Also, I have no idea what it stands for, and I don't care in the slightest. It's just another one of those boring things that work requires that no one should actually care about. Demonic Ocular Torture? I might be concerned with that one, but I'm not worried, as UPS removed any mentions of its dealings with Satan several years back.
The DOT exam is your basic physical. I pissed in a cup. And then they asked me for a urine sample. I swear, every time I know I have to give a urine sample, I drink a Hinckley and Schmidt water jug empty, yet am unable to perform sexually when called upon to do so. It's not like I felt this pressure on my bladder but had this fear of the nurse holding a glass to the door, in a strange practice that she has developed in which she listens to men piss. It's not there at all. I had no urge to go even a little bit. But this insistent nurse just handed me a cup and kept telling me, "Just a little bit". With my head hung low, I slumped off to the bathroom to produce the equivalent of six raindrops of urine. I chose to look at it as a victory, and I will delude myself with that for years to come.
I had my eyes tested and my hearing tested. At this, the nurse covered her mouth with the folder containing all medical information on me, and whispered numbers, which I would then repeat back to her. It was both completely stupid and erotic, all wrapped up into a sushi roll that I call my erection. I did the eye chart too. She had me cover one eye and asked for the smallest line I could read. Then she had me switch eyes and asked me again. I just replied, "the same line." Which was mostly true, though it was a bit blurrier in the left eye lopez. But I could have had a glass eye in that eye, said the same thing, and been sent off to drive recklessly in the city, a one eyed bastard makeshift pirate, ramming into fedex trucks and plundering them of packages, which I would claim for UPS.
Of course there was the hernia test. I'll bet you can't even detect hernias that way. It's just some sick fuck's way of getting his rocks off, and none of the other doctors seem to mind, so they've just kept doing it for decades. For girls who may not know, and likely aren't even reading this, the hernia test is when the doctor asks you to stand in the center of the room and pull down your pants and undergarments. While you stand there dumbfounded, not sure where to put your hands, as they would usually be down your pants, the doctor puts two fingers around where the penis and testicular nutsack meet. Or meat. He instructs you to turn your head, again, just some twisted ritual that no one questions, and asks you to cough. You utter out two weak ass coughs, as it's the best you can produce, and he steps back and tells you to pull your pants back up. It's a bit dehumanizing to say the least.
And it got me thinking. It's always a guy doctor that does it. I get it. There are morals and fears and such that prevents this from changing, but I'm not thrilled with the fact that in the past few undetermined increments of time, this educated Indian doctor is the only one to touch the junk except me. My nurse was cute. She could have done it. Guys would love the hernia test if it meant a girl touching them. Even in something as unsexy as that. Go back and think about the process, only this time, it's from someone with firm and perky breasts. Standing alone in a room with a woman who tells you to drop pants and underoos is much more appealing to me. I just typed that last sentence with my dick, that's how interesting I found the idea.
Let the nurse do it. She's in her twenties, she's seen one before, it's not going to shock her. "Oh, I just figured those would be easier to get to if I got that out of the way for you." If I had known a cute Latino gal was going to caress my sack for even two seconds, I wouldn't have put off the physical until the day before my previous one expired. I'd have been standing outside waiting for them to open at six in the morning, hot cup of coffee keeping me awake, and the nurse's touch keeping me alert.
It's just the right way to handle it. And if it's not, I'll show her the right way.