Wednesday, June 02, 2004

In case there was any doubt...

It's been nice going to therapy. I always suspected I had psychological problems, and this has been a great way to remove any doubt whatsoever about my "mental irregularity", as Rocky Balboa would say.

Doc read my blog, and was quite pleased. In retrospect, he says, it was a good idea for me to do it this way. He didn't expect me to write nearly so much. That was the good news.

The bad news: I am worse off than he thought. He is "very, very concerned" about my "lack of impulse control".

"Listen, Doc," I said. "Why the political correctness? Why is it a foregone conclusion that I have to get married and have 2.3 children? Marriage is not for everyone; most marriages end in divorce anyway, so obviously some people are making a mistake by doing it!"

"You're not here because you don't want to get married," he smiled. "You're here because, as you said the first day, your sex life is out of control. You are taking unnecessary risks. You are jeopardizing your livelihood. These are YOUR words, not mine."

"I exaggerated a bit during the fight with Lila. It was for effect. My life isn't hanging in the balance here."

"So if your boss finds out about Lila, can you guarantee me that you'd be ok, job-wise?"

"Well, there's a policy against it. I'd probably get transferred, or demoted..."

"You're the youngest person ever to make VP in your division, right? And you're on a fast track to a very secure future."


"And why are you gambling with that? What is so worth it?"

"Obviously, you haven't fucked her."

"Yeah, you have good sex. Twenty minutes later, it's over. Is it worth it? Especially since you go home and masturbate anyway? And really, how good can it be, if you are at Wal-Mart, hitting on ugly girls an hour later?"


"Trust me, it's good. I'm getting greedy. Maybe I need to tone it down a little."

"Maybe you need to stop."

"It's under control." FUCK. Did I just say that?

"That's an addict talking," he said. "It's under control. I can handle it. NO, you CAN'T!"

"Lila's the problem. Lila's only 17. But I'm not breaking any laws. It's legal in this state to have sex with her. But I work with her, so that was poor judgment. I agree with that. So, that's one bad choice. Am I a such a sick bastard because of one bad choice?"

"If you make that choice 5 times a week, yes!"

"It's not nearly as out of control as you imply. This kind of shit happens all the time."


"I am doing what any man would do, if he had the chance..."


"I think I am falling in love with her."

"You are NOT falling in love with her!"

"And just how the hell would YOU know??" I was starting to lose it.

"READ YOUR FUCKING BLOG!!!!" Holy shit! Did he just drop an "F" bomb?

He put on his glasses, grabbed the pile of printouts, and started reading aloud. 'Best sex I've ever had.' '34C-22-35. Measured myself.' 'Her fingers were perfect, like a mannequin'.

"Whenever you write about Lila," he said, "there are two themes: She is hot, and she is a great lay. But you know what I don't know?"


"Does this girl talk? I mean, can she string two sentences together? Cause, as far as I can tell, all you two do is fuck."

"Of COURSE she talks...."

"I figure, if you're really in love, you'd like talking to her. But I'm guessing you weren't doing 80 miles an hour so you could TALK to her. I'm guessing if she were disfigured in an accident tomorrow, you'd be gone."

Amen to that!

"So would a lot of people," I said.

"A lot of people are together for the wrong reasons. Just like you said."

"We talk. I didn't mention it in my blog. It doesn't mean it didn't happen."

"You wrote about what was on your mind. And what was on your mind was FUCKING."

That brings the "F" bomb count to 3, incidentally. Perhaps I should notify the AMA. He he he...

"I'm sure she's a nice girl. And I am sure she's great in bed. Just don't tell me you're in love with her. Think about the most in-love couple you know. Who are they?"

"Jerry and Ann. An older Jewish couple."

"Tell me about them."

"Well, they help each other out, without asking. They are THERE for each other. And they LIKE each other. They enjoy each other's company. And they speak fondly of each other when they are not together. Sometimes Ann will remark that she hasn't been spending much time with him lately, and she will go out of her way...."

"Do you and Lila do any of that?"

"I got it." Enough already. Prick.

"So what," I said. "you want me to dump her?"

"I don't want you to do anything. I want YOU to decide. If you don't see a problem, don't do anything. It's your call."

"Life is full of risks," I said. "You got in your car and drove here today. Risk. You walk down a busy street. Risk. You eat at restaurants that could be serving you food poisoning. Risk. I don't buy that I am supposed to just sit home, shaking, in an empty bathtub, and not live my life."

"I'm not saying don't live your life! I'm not saying don't take a risk! I'm not saying don't have sex! I'm not even saying don't screw around a lot! I'm just saying that you're not being smart about it!!"

"So I'm an idiot now?"

"NO! You're a smart guy. And you know what else? You express yourself very well. You are very in touch with your own feelings."


"That Mona Lisa story you told was AMAZING. There is some terrific writing in that blog! You have so many talents - you have the potential to live a full, happy life. DON'T BLOW IT!"

Yawn. 1......2......3.......

FUCK HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I left his office, wondering if Lila was free. Or anyone else, for that matter.