In Treatment

Every week I go to an office, sit down on a sofa and talk for 50 minutes. It's called therapy. I love therapy because it gives me the opportunity to say whatever the hell I want and the other person has to listen.

That's why people resort to therapy. When everyone else stops listening, you can actually pay someone to do so. I can go on and on about the Evangelical right and how irritating limousine liberals are and why I prefer Gerolsteiner to Perrier.

She has to listen. She can't hang up the phone. She can't move to the other side of the bar. She can't go talk to other people. I have her where I want her for nearly an hour and since I'm paying, she cannot leave. She has to listen.

I used to have a psychologist that would say things like, "Well, that is strange," when I said something a little off the wall. He was a great therapist and a pretty cool guy. He had the most soothing voice and pleasant demeanor. I wish he had a practice in the city. Now I am stuck finding people in my insurance network that are geographically convenient to the 11231 zip code.

The main issue I have with therapists that I have visited is that they often find me so amusing that it's difficult to keep a straight face. My current therapist actually said that "it might not work out" because she can't help herself from laughing. Good. I like making people's jobs difficult.

I started blathering on about these goddamn trust-fund hipsters and she stopped me by telling me that it was not really a good use of my time or money. Here are just a few topics that I should avoid discussing while I'm on the clock.

• The fact that I am really pleased with my sneakers.
• The fact that I have been thinking a lot about industry as of late, and while I recognize that industry exists, I'm not really sure how the whole thing works.
• My dreams about Ted Danson.
• The notion that I may never be able to afford a Wolf range and a Miele dishwasher.
• My hatred for visible air conditioning units in new construction condominiums.
• My need to categorize people into two distinct groups: gentry or non-gentry.
• How upset I get when I don't receive a proper greeting sometimes when I run into acquaintances on the street.
• How depressing places are that are considered to be the "fastest growing" anything.
• What I should talk about if I ever get through to the Howard Stern Show.
• My contempt for people that are not articulate.
• How I sometimes use the word "quaint" to describe things that certainly not quaint.
• Neil Young's arrogance and refusal to fully commit to CSN.
• The fact that Chinese takeout places always put duck sauce and soy sauce in the bag, but you always have to ask for mustard.
• How I wish I had some black friends.
• What the hell that friend of Oprah's, Gail, is contributing to society.

These are topics that I should just keep bottled in and not waste during my precious therapy minutes.

I am leaving for Texas in the morning, so I'll see ya'll on Monday.