And They Say I'm the One Who's Nuts!

As is the case with most people I think I'm perfectly sane. That many readers disagree is their problem not mine.

Never the less, at the strident urging of some people who will remain nameless (mostly the Critic and the Fiend), I went to see a professional in these matters. The results were not quite what I had hoped for.

First impressions are always the most important. The first thing I noticed about this potential counselor was that he was asleep. I cleared my throat. He snored. I prodded him a bit, he finally woke up.

"Who the hell are you?" "Whatever." "Eh?" "My name is 'Whatever'." "If this is about my car, it's completely paid for." "I'm your 4:30 appointment." "Oh…that's not until 4:30, get lost." "It's 4:35."

The man, one Dr. Sai Cho, which according to him is Chinese, despite the fact that the guy didn't look Asian, grumbled a bit but eventually got down to business.

"Right, now where to start…"

After 40 minutes of ranting and raving the conversation wound down.

"And I don't see why, even if I am living in my mother's basement, we can't watch 'Voyager' instead of 'Enterprise!' I mean, it was my turn!"

I looked at my watch.

"This is all well and good, but what about my problems?" "Oh shut up you whiner."

I scratched my head.

"Yeah, well, does this mean I don't need to see a shrink?" "Hell no, you're nutty as they come." "How can you tell when you've barely even let me talk?!" "We doctors have ways of knowing these things." "Are you sure you're a doctor?"

Dr. Cho looked nervous.

"I have a diploma and everything." "Let me see it." "You are obviously entering the stage where you resist treatment. Now get the hell out of here!"

I found myself stumbling off, rather poorer in wisdom and wealth from when I started. I was held up by a few scruffy looking gentlemen who were towing away a car.

Arriving back at the dump that I call home, I called up the person who recommended this crackpot to me in the first place: the Fiend.

"Thanks a lot for telling me about this guy." "You're welcome." "I was being sarcastic." "So was I." "What makes you think he would be a good doctor?" "I never said that he was any good." "Then why did you tell me to see him?" "You're obviously experiencing natural patient resistance to treatment." "That's what he said." "Ha! So I'm right!" "Now wait a minute…" "No, sorry, the girlfriend is calling." "You don't have a girlfriend!"

But he had already hung up.

And here I thought that they were called "shrinks" because they made your problems go away…

Tags: Shrink, crazy, doctor, fiend