Help Me!

Fifty minutes a week isn't doing it for me. Fifty minutes of therapy that is. What I need is a psychiatrist to hang around me 24/7 to tell me what to say and do. That's the only way I can survive in this society.

Everywhere I go, my psychiatrist would go. He would be with me at work, social gatherings, the gym, in restaurants, bars, in the car, on vacations. I wouldn't make a move without him. He could give me relaxation tips and tell me not to get upset about petty things.

He could tell me who I should talk to at parties and exactly what I should say, so I don't blather on and on about gentrification and Evangelical Christians all night to a group of people that will likely be bored and/or offended. He would tell me to talk about subjects that perhaps would interest a wider audience such as the NCAA tournament or American Idol.

On vacations, he could tell me where to spend my time and what not to get upset about. He could reassure me that no one is going to judge me if I don't purchase a souvenir for them.

It doesn't even need to be a psychiatrist - maybe a mentor of some sorts - someone with the sense that I don't have. Someone who knows right from wrong and knows that inappropriate remarks are generally frowned upon in our society and can kick me when I am about to say something controversial.

I need this person to accompany me while I am using public transit or walking down any street in the city to teach me how to properly interact with minorities and help me accept the fact that black people are louder than whites on the bus. I clearly am not fit to meander around the city unsupervised. Something catastrophic is soon to happen to me.

While I'm at it, I also need a lawyer to handle all my business and medical-related affairs. I'm already in debt; let's just keep piling on the bills!