The entrepreneur glared at the
Making very clear that he was pissed,
Shaking like a leaf
with rage, and said,
"Dear host, I beg you: Let me go ahead
is next, that I might have my say!
That woman there should not just get
With slandering an honorable profession,
Without which we would
be in a depression,
Starving, without goods of any kind,
she does is masturbate the mind,
A fraud, a parasite, and even
Why can't she get a real job, like a nurse,
Or clean houses,
or do something that's useful?"
The bartender replied, "Well, to be
You're next anyway, so go ahead.
But just a tale, please.
Enough's been said
About both therapists and entrepreneurs.
neither critics nor well-trained connoisseurs,
But we can tell a tale
from a rant!
So please, now, just a tale. If you can't,
and let another take your place,
To tell one without rancor and with
Yes? What is your pleasure?" The entrepreneur
Was silent, as
though determined to ignore
The bartender's request, but then
"I'll tell a tale," he said, "as all may read
of how most Freudians are frauds,
Not to speak of Jungians, and the
Who call themselves Adlerians, and such,
robbing them -- not much
Has not been documented. My former
Went to one, who ruined our lovely life,
Probably sleeping with
her, but anyway
Remaking her, so one delightful day
She told me she
was leaving me --" "The tale!"
The bartender reminded him. "The
The entrepreneur, distracted, said. "Oh, yes!
But who do you
think it's about? I'll let you guess!"
There once was a therapist, a
Who played her patients like an accordion,
for her bank account,
Never professing interest in the amount
interest, though she knew it to the penny.
She kept her patients
dependent through the many
Years, decades even, that she saw them
Two, three times a week. How she bore them
Was to do her mental
They lay in front of her, spewing
Accusations on all of those they loved --
friends, associates, but above
All their parents, those twin devils of
Known as childhood -- they knew it well!
They were this
or that, perhaps the other,
Because they never got love from their
Or their father, as the case may be,
And neither one their
anguish cared to see,
Nor would they have themselves, except for
When in exquisite detail, at so much per --
"This is no tale!"
the therapist complained.
"A tale is coming!" the entrepreneur
"Patience, please, and let me have my say!
yours!" "We haven't got all day,"
The bartender said, "or night, as it
Please! The tale! While we are still at sea!"
entrepreneur nodded and resumed:
The point is that they found
With rage at those they blamed for who they
In which they were encouraged well by her,
Never coming to a
Unless it was with great determination.
however, a patient at the end
Of his insurance decided to
That next time he would pay himself, for he
Was enslaved to
her. Whenever she
Was on vacation he drowned in his
He couldn't even imagine her not there,
The loving witness
of his inner life,
More dependable than friend or wife,
professional, long-term companion,
Sort of a mental whore, a brazen,
Ego booster, who would have even Hitler
Rid of guilt and
shame -- you get the picture!
He felt the anger of a rejected
Ready with a payment that would suit her.
She asked for it
right off, and so he said
He'd pay her by and by, but now,
He had a riddle for her. "What is that?"
annoyed. He answered, "It is what
You cannot help but share alike with
Yet cannot split in any way. You'd call
It an expression of your inmost feelings."
"I'm a professional," she said. "My
Are purely for some ready quid pro quo."
is that, quite certainly." "You know,"
She said, "that love can be no
For money." He answered, "It's neither love nor loot,
something one can't possibly divide,
That says precisely what I feel
"I don't like guessing games," she said. "The
Is already underway. My impression
Is that you want to have
it from me free.
But you must pay if you would be with
"I'll pay you, then," he said, and turned around,
his pants and undies to the ground,
And, jutting out his ass to the
Took a breath and farted in her face.
nothing, made no move at all,
As he pulled up his pants and stood up
Smiling like a maniac, and said,
"I hope you will accept such
Of money. My insurance is all gone,
And no one will approve me for a loan."
She stared at him a while, and finally
She said, "You obviously need more therapy.
I'll refer you to a
They charge much less but still give you good
Crushed, the patient saw he was defeated,
while his tormentor was seated,
Looked down at her, helpless as a
As she wrote down a phone number. "Maybe
Someday you'll be
able to come back,
If you have the funds that you now lack,
can then resume our long, hard work."
"I know that you must think
that I'm a jerk --"
He started to say. But she looked at her
"You're looking for free time," she said. "Don't botch
exit. Please, just go!" And so he went,
Thinking, as he into the
Of this one tiny bit of saving grace:
That at least
he'd farted in her