I'm certainly comfortable enough with my body that I don't care who sees it.I guess maybe that last part isn't completely true, given that I ended up ...going for the full exhibitionist licence. Actually, it probably isn't true at all.I went to the clinic and checked in for my appointment. I had prepared myself to be interviewed by someone who might be cold and judgemental, or at least clinical. Instead, the petite blonde nurse who did my questionnaire was so friendly, so enthusiastic. She. He’d kill Richard and wind up on CNN. The stairs creaked under my weight. I quickly ascended them. I got to my room, stripped, hoped into the shower and let the steam take me over. The streams of hot water stung the bruises forming on my back. I knew better than to go out with him anyway, my brother warned me. He said Richard had a reputation. I thought that was an ambiguous term. Reputation implied that he knew women, how to work them up and get them all hot and bother, and in the mood. Not. ‘Andy. We need to talk.’ Actually she talked and I listened. The essence of the talk was that there was little point in our remaining married. She wanted out. There were no arguments, no screaming fights. She knew that I had been faithful, given my workload I would have little opportunity to cheat. If she had cheated I would never know for certain. Perhaps she had as she found a new man very quickly and moved in with him. Whatever we parted without acrimony and I wished her luck with the rest. Unknown to the public and most of the government, Kuwait had hired a U.S. public relations firm to spread sympathetic propaganda to garner support for the plight of the Kuwaiti people being tortured by Iraqi troops… but not all of the reports were true. Major Jay Hanson had been bitterly disappointed when his request to be assigned to an F-117A stealth fighter squadron that was being deployed to the Middle East was denied. He had known the B-2 bomber pilots were not yet trained well enough for.