Monday, January 16, 2006

Two Full Halves of a Quarter Moon

Soundtrack: Dinosaur Jnr / Freakscene

I'm going to therapy tomorrow, is it tomorrow? I don't know it might be the next day which is probably why I need to go. Do I need to go? Probably, read what you just wrote, that means you probably need to go.

I said I probably need to go, I think it's tomorrow, maybe the next day.

So I'll go.


Once I went to see a guy and I made it to the reception desk and there were people sitting around and the woman behind the desk asked me in a terse, loud voice, "and what is the nature of YOUR problem?" and I could feel all the giraffe necks behind me and their elephant ears casting shadows on my back, and I felt like saying, "people like you, you have no style lady, no tact and I will have none of you" but I didn't I just left.

Turned and left and thought, well, that's that. I've been.


Another time I went and this time it was a lady and there was no reception desk just me and her and yes I wanted her, we were in a small room up some stairs round a corner down a hall, as hard to find as what we were looking for inside me. She listened for an hour, occasionally her jaw dropped and she said things like, "REALLY?" and "Well, no wonder you've come to me" and at the end she said, "I think maybe we should make it three times a week" except I couldn't afford even that once and now she is suing me for a measly $110.

People are crazy.


Another time I did lots of coke and my head went crazy so I went and saw a doctor and a nurse and a psychologist all on the one day and the doctor poked me for two minutes in the stomach and said, "you're an alcoholic" and I said, "but doc everyone I know drinks a little or a lot" and he said, "they're all alcoholics too" and that made me feel better. He had a picture on his wall that his children must have drawn. It looked like him. With knives in his eyes and flames under his feet. That made me feel better too.

Next I saw the nurse and she was a friend of my sister and I could see her nipple. Well, almost. I said, "the doctor says I'm an alcoholic but I've just started to learn the difference between Pinot Gris and Pinot Grigio, can I still have wine with dinner? And I'm going to Meredith, can I still have half a pill?" and I thought [I WANT TO TOUCH YOUR SOFT BLONDE HAIR] because to be honest I needed someone to comfort me at this point and I thought soft blonde hair would supply that. She told me, "just use moderation" which I had been trying to do for years and which led me to her in the first place, but I wanted her to feel smart so I nodded and waited for the next lady.

She was a psychologist. She looked like one. As soon as she knew I had no parents she almost burst into tears of joy, her knowing tongue click-clicking and her sundae flurry of arms jotting down what looked like the precursor to the precursor of Heiroglyphics, some itchy scratchy kill kill handwriting style that just HAD to be camouflaging her own psychotic thoughts. Well that's what I thought anyway. She was old. She had that old lady thing where the lips take a long time to part, longer than the word she spoke, so her mouth looked like it was 10 seconds behind what she was saying. I always watch the mouth in that situation. It almost looks like a talking snail. I was fascinated, but frightened. Old ladies frighten me. She suggested Hypnotherapy and asked, suggested, that I take the FULL COURSE. I said okay lady, the full course, but can I start it next week when I come back?

I felt like I was smarter than her.

I never went back.


And now for something completely different.


  1. you made me laugh & laugh & love you... elephant ears...

    good luck... if that's what you need.

  2. good luck, mister.


    it can only lead to trouble.

    of the BAD kind.



  4. Hey Sherriff. I'm damn envious of how well you write.

    Good luck with the Headshrinker. I'm looking forward to a full account of his/her foibles.

    If they try to prescribe drugs, remember that sex provides higher levels of serotonin. And is cheaper. And doesn't make you fat. Or grey-headed (and I don't mean hair).