I met up with Dr. John , my MILF-loving, child therapist colleague for drinks to thank him for writing the required letter of recommendation for my credentialing at the hospital. Per usual for John he was late. Of course I was irritated because as we've learned if you're going to be late and not calling to say so you'd better be kicking ass and taking names.
He bounced in about 25 minutes after our scheduled meeting time loudly singing a tune to the theme of Hustle and Flow:
You know it's hard out here for a shrink
Tryin' to get up all my stuff in ladies' pink
"Is that really necessary?" I said.
"You don't like my song?"
"You sound like an idiot and people are going to be offended by that."
"Man you're as uptight as Pete. Sorry I'm late. You know, hot moms in the office that I had to at least talk with. Let's get us a drink."
The waitress walked up to our table almost on cue wearing...pink.
"Bourbon. How about you, Mr. Sensitivity?" John said.
"Just a seltzer with lime for me, please."
"What?" John looked at me with a confused expression. "This isn't Oprah's Book Club, this is a bar."
"I'm just not in the mood tonight." I didn't explain that I was completing a test of mental discipline by abstaining from alcohol for 30 days. John wouldn't understand something like that but I sometimes deprive myself of things as a form of self-growth. There's a certain appeal to the monastic lifestyle for me. An added bonus is that I appreciate whatever I've given up that much more once I have it back. In graduate school I once gave up meat for a month, which left me feeling anemic and cranky but with a rekindled love of filet mignon upon its triumphant return to me. Later, sexual activity for a month. In retrospect that may have been thrust upon me as opposed to a conscious choice but that's neither here nor there for our purposes.
I also try to keep my mind sharp by memorizing most telephone numbers and emails instead of plugging them into my cell phone or computer. I'm strange that way.
"Lame" John said and threw back his drink as soon as it hit the table. "So I have a date with that hottie Allison from your office."
"You what?"
"A date. I have a date with Allison. I came by your office the other day but you weren't around. Allison was and we hit it off." John leaned back and made an imaginary jump shot. He's such a tool sometimes.
If you've read more than three words on this site you know that mental health people are strange folk (check out the archives or the Question of the Week if you doubt this fact and, make no mistake, it is a fact). Because of this weirdness they should probably be grateful to have whoever is willing to be with them. But under no circumstances should shrinks be with other shrinks. In a perfect world a mental health professional finds a non-shrink companion: lawyer, dentist, teacher, auto mechanic, marble bath salesman, Long Island oyster fisherman. A non-mental health profession allows for a calibrating of one psychologist's over-analytical, neurotic mind to some semblance of thinking the way the rest of the world does. Unfortunately there are those cataclysmic moments, episodes of Satan's Whim if you will, where shrinks come together for dating or even to marry each other, creating some sort of bicameral crazy home.
"Interesting" I said in "shrink mode." If I had a goatee I'd have been stroking it as I said that.
"What's the big deal? Is she strange or something?"
"Yes she is. As are you."
They say opposites attract but I'm fairly sure they mean opposites of the same species. While John is a standard player when it comes to women he doesn't trust them in any capacity. Thus he tends to hurt them before he can be hurt by them and will do pretty much anything to avoid a real connection with a woman. His last girlfriend was a prostitute. Her name was Chloe Valentine I believe. I've been told it's easy to avoid emotional intimacy when you date within the oldest profession.
Allison, on the other hand, is a hard-working, tee-totaling, do-things-by-the-book annoying freak due to her ridiculous naivete and belief that none of God's creatures are capable of hurting a fly. She is also anti-medication for any and all psychiatric problems, instead believing that "talk can cure all." Apparently John was "overtaken" by her physical beauty and figured he could sleep with her a few times before she figured out what he was all about. I don't doubt this is true but the thought of them procreating sent a shiver down my spine. A drink would have been nice right about then.
"When is it?" I asked.
"Why? You want to write about us?"
"Absolutely."
"Good," John said. "I like seeing my "name" in print. We're probably going to get together on Friday night but I'm already meeting up with Chloe for drinks so I'll need to get on that and then take off for Allison."
"I thought you and Chloe broke up."
"Rob, you are truly naïve. Waitress another bourbon! And a Shirley Temple for my friend here."
I'm sure this will turn out well. Horrifically is more likely. Stay tuned.
Posted by Rob Dobrenski at 1:05 AM