me vs. therapy

'when i was young, peter and i would fish a lot. the little sunfish would always swallow the hook.'

'that's frustrating.'

'our thoughts exactly. after daintily removing the hooks from their throats with needle-nose pliers 200 times in the 90 degree heat, we got tired of being so patient.'

'so?'

'we let the line out of the rod and then swung the fish around our heads, hitting them against the 6 foot high seawall repeatedly until there was nothing left of the fish except the little piece of throat still clinging to the hook it swallowed.'

'that's fairly disgusting.'

'you know, now that i look back i'd have to agree with you. at the time, we thought we were geniuses. and the cats liked us a lot.'

'ok. what does this story have to do with you being patient?'

'i was illustrating how i used to be really impatient. and now, i'm not impatient.'

'you were 10. 10-year olds are impatient. i know that may come as a suprise to you. but it's true.'

'so what are you trying to say, i haven't really learned patience through the years, i just grew up?'

'yes.'

'i know some grown ups who don't have any patience.'

'i'm sure you do. starting with the one in the mirror.'

'you're funny.'

'i'm right. so this girl you're dating thinks you have patience. why do you think that is?'

'because i'm taking it slow.'

'really slow?'

'well, i don't know about really slow. but slow for me.'

'ah, good. so you finally learned from your past 25 failed relationships where you practically ran blindly into whoevers arms you found appealing only to find they stepped aside at the last moment and let you take a dive off the cliff?'

'yeah. that's about right.'

'great. i'm glad to hear that. how's it feel?'

'it feels painful somedays. easy others.'

'painful like you're a fish getting repeatedly slammed up against a seawall or painful like you're a fish getting the hook you swallowed gingerly removed with needlenose pliers?'

'uhh.' Look over at Satan. Satan squints hard, shrugs.

Look back at therapist, say; 'the later.'

'i'm proud of you. i'm so proud that i'm writing this in my notes.'

'hey, do i ever get a copy of those notes?'

'no.'

'but why not?'

'because they're my notes.'

'but they're about me.'

'but i'm writing them.'

'but you wouldn't have anything to write if i weren't here.'

'but...' Therapist swings seat around, points to diplomas on wall, says; 'all my doctorates and degrees on the wall say i'm smarter than you. so what i say goes.'

'but that's not fair.'

'neither is being smashed up against a seawall until all that's left of you is a small piece of throat.'

'so what football team are you rooting for this season?'

'that's what i thought.