Women seem to like to push the envelope with me.
Tonight, after recounting the details of my difficult week with my therapist, she asked me how I felt about it. I hesitated, and, as if to push the envelope, she said, "You're p*ssed off." She paused. "Aren't you?"
"Yeah, I guess I am." We continued our conversation for some time. As we talked about why my week had p*ssed me off, I began to wonder why she had used the phrase "p*ssed off". This was certainly the most brazen use of language in our sessions to date. I finally decided that she was just trying to provoke me, to get my goat, to catch my attention.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I had clearly relinquished control of this conversation. She was on top in this one, and I had to turn the tables. Again, she asked me how I felt. I was prepared with a reply: "like my work had gone to sh*t."
She was taken aback. That was the last curse word uttered in our session.
If I (or my health plan) am paying her to listen and advise, she can stick to the listening and advising. I'll cover the risque language, thank you very much.
After this killer therapy session, Lisa and I went out to eat at Domenico's. As we circled the parking lot, a little girl stopped in front of our car, made direct eye contact, and stuck her tongue out at me. Yes--there I was, face to face with a chubby little tongue protruding from her cherubic little face.
We drove away.
I was boiling on the inside. How dare this little girl affront me so? I nearly pulled into a parking space before the change of plans. I jerked out of the spot, sped around the lot, until the little girl and I were eye-to-eye again within our respective cars. She was still giggling, reveling in her facial assault, when I, as they say, fought fire with fire. With unmatched oral agility, I returned the favor and stuck my tongue out at her!
She drove away. Actually, the older man (presumably her father, but one never knows) drove away. I ducked... for two reasons: first, to avoid ocular connection with her male companion, and second, to ensure that I had the last word in this nonverbal war.
I always have the last laugh with the ladies.
Originally Posted: Tuesday, April 27, 2007
(Then) Curent Mood: accomplished