me vs. therapy

'what's with the dress?'

'i just bought it for a wedding. it's the only one i own. i like it, i'm wearing it everywhere.'

'nice tan lines.'

'yeah, you know i was concerned about those until i realized that i couldn't wear a bra with this thing. then, the tan lines didn't matter as much.'

'it's a summer dress.'

'yeah?'

'you don't wear bras with summer dresses.'

'oh, well thanks captain feminine. something a dyke wouldn't know.'

'it looks nice. if you squint hard enough you can blur out the tan lines.'

'you know, if i wanted to be emotionally abused i'd go back to dating puerto ricans.'

'you're right. i'll stop teasing you. so...what's new?'

'i've currently hit year 4 of being single.'

'you've dated in the past four years.'

'yeah. but none of them have been like...relationships.'

'well, true. how do you feel about that?'

'er...i don't know. fine i guess. i mean, i do whatever i want. spend money without asking permission. look at hot girls walking by without getting hit and stuff. but cuddling my stuffed elephant is getting old.'

'maybe you should buy a stuffed bear?'

'why a bear?'

'no reason. it was just the first animal that came to mind.'

'hmm. i'm not sure a stuffed anything is really a replacement for a human.'

'no. not really.'

'but then again, the stuffed animals don't bitch and moan.'

'they don't use all your toilet paper either.'

'yeah. and they don't make me massage their back!'

'or run to the store to pick up tampons.'

Look over at Satan. Satan reads tampon application instructions.

Look back at therapist, say; 'maybe it's not so bad.'

'if you look at the positives, anything can become acceptable.'

'umm, really? because i don't think there are any positives about say, clamydia.'

'well, you get it from having sex. sex is positive.'

'are you on vicadin today?'

'no, why do you ask?'

'you're acting weird.'

'weird is subjective. what else is new?'

'i hate my job.'

'that's not new. what else you got?'

'uh, i've lost my keys twice and my credit card once in one week.'

'sounds like an attention to detail problem.'

'so i'm not going crazy?'

'well, maybe. but probably not. do you have anything on your mind keeping you distracted?'

'uh, no.'

'oh.  you're going crazy.'

Look over at Satan. Satan shoots tampon out of applicator. Catches it. Tampon bursts into flames.

Look back at therapist, say; 'today hasn't been very helpful.'

'where are your keys?'

'right here in my hand.'

'great! then you haven't lost them again.'

'how is that helpful?'

'i've helped you focus.'

'uh...'

'trust me, i'm a professional. oh look, our time is up.'

'i've accomplished nothing today.'

'that's not true. you've convinced yourself being single is a good thing.'

'uh...'

'and you haven't lost your keys. just nod and get out.'

'do you have tickets to a broadway show or something?'

'why do you ask?'

'because you want to get rid of me.'

'yes i do and yes i do.'

'oh'. Nod. Get out.