There is a \u2018knock\u2019 on the door – somewhat – because it\u2019s really more like a tap followed by desperate sounding scratches then some indecipherable smoothing noise.<\/p>\n
He opens it and smiles. It is a broad smile that reveals a lot of teeth. They are oblong and uneven and several bear stains of the various obvious addictions steeped in smoke and drink.<\/p>\n
\u2018Judy, so nice to meet you.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Thank you Doctor Hurst.\u2019 He waves her into his office with a massive arm. She is de minimus and scurries underneath the limb as if it were the meat hook of Kong and she a rickety bi-plane. She clears the small hallway then freezes and stares into the room dumbfounded by the furniture.<\/p>\n
\u2018Let me assist, this one is yours.\u2019 He says this in a kindly manner with his big teeth showing while gesturing her to a cushy brown leather couch. Opposite the couch is an immense armchair of faded gold with crimson and blue pinstripes into which he nestles his bulk. He is an extremely oversized man and fantastically rotund and the old chair blurts out a pained croaking noise while he shifts to settle his blubber. She seems momentarily stunned by everything in the room including the couch, lowering herself onto its edge with undo uncertainty and her huge designer bag crimped into her lap.<\/p>\n
She manages to speak. \u2018Doctor I should tell you, this is my first therapy session sooo . . . I don\u2019t actually lie down do I?\u2019<\/p>\n
This absolutely kills him \u2013 he is overwrought with delight! A deep throaty guffaw trumpets from his mouth causing a thick layer of skin on his neck to ripple walrus-like.<\/p>\n
\u2018You cannot imagine how many times I get that question!\u2019 His mirth is infectious and a thin high pitched squawk sounds from her mouth indicating laughter.<\/p>\n
\u2018Lying down is certainly not protocol but I do like my clients to relax! Please, settle in.\u2019<\/p>\n
He checks his notepad, which in fact has nothing on it except a doodle of what looks like a tootsie roll. She slides back into the couch\u2019s plushness clinging to her bag as if it were a life preserver while her feet lose contact with the ground. She is smartly dressed in the standard garb of a city professional including a tiny navy blue blazer and tiny suit pants, a colorful tiny silk scarf and teensy-tiny low healed practical shoes. She wears oversized – relative to her tininess- round framed tortoise shell glasses that bespeak studiousness.<\/p>\n
For a moment there is utter silence broken only by a steamy hissing sound that comes from an old painted radiator by the window. His office is small with an aged coziness, dimly lit by an antique floor lamp emanating warm yellow light across plaster walls painted sage green. The decor includes several distinguished looking paintings of still-life fruit and a large oak bookcase crammed with books of his trade.<\/p>\n
Looking at the fruit she feels more at ease and thinks of a fruit cup.<\/p>\n
\u2018So Judy, before we begin I\u2019d like to get one administrative formality out of the way, if you\u2019ll permit.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018If it\u2019s about insurance I believe I told your secretary . . .\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Not at all. We confirmed the insurance. Regarding scheduling though, you cancelled the first appointment . . . \u2018<\/p>\n
‘I\u2019m so sorry about that, you see . . .\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018No need to apologize. I just wanted to make sure this day and time work for you.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Yes, Tuesday afternoons are generally free for me. My boss works from home on Tuesdays, so . . .\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Ahhh, and when the cat is away!!\u2019 He howls thunderously and slams his meaty hand on the arm of his chair which makes a crackling sound as if the wood has splintered inside causing her to flinch and drop her bag on the floor. He lunges toward it with surprising deftness for a man of his dimensions. At such velocity his sheer mass is appalling. Like a frenzied linebacker recovering a fumbled football he scoops up the bag while she chirps out a high pitched fear noise, anxious that he might stumble and crush her. His fat neck is beet red. He takes a moment to steady himself.<\/p>\n
They calm down as the radiator hisses.<\/p>\n
\u2018Why don\u2019t we place this right over here on my desk,’ he says civilly.<\/p>\n
She says, \u2018Oh, well . . ..\u2019<\/p>\n
There is a pause.<\/p>\n
\u2018If you don\u2019t mind, I\u2019d feel more comfortable if we kept it here with me on the couch.\u2019<\/p>\n
A longer pause.<\/p>\n
\u2018Really.\u2019 He seems hurt.<\/p>\n
She nods, not knowing what else to do.<\/p>\n
\u2018Very well then, here you are,\u2019 he says dropping the bag onto her lap as if discarding a bag of slimy debris down the garbage chute of a five story walk-up. She\u2019s almost certain she hears \u2018trust\u2019 mutter from his lips. He marches to a thermostat mounted on the wall behind his armchair studying its little digital face and toys with its<\/p>\n
buttons then settles back down into his armchair. He grabs his pad and scribbles \u2018cancelled last week \u2639\u2019 next to the tootsie roll.<\/p>\n
\u2018So . . . Tuesday afternoons are good then right?\u2019 he asks.<\/p>\n
\u2018Yes they are.’<\/p>\n
\u2018Great, because commitment is vital.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Yes.’<\/p>\n
\u2018Commitment to your health, right?\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Yes.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Commitment to better health!\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Absolutely!\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018It\u2019s all about commitment!\u2019 He points at the ceiling while his enormous body jolts off the chair as if someone has flicked a switch sending a deadly electric current through his thick loins. When he lands back down his gold wire-rimmed glasses bounce off his face. She stares at them on the floor and then up at him blushing, her mouth frozen in a little \u2018O\u2019.<\/p>\n
\u2018I\u2019m so sorry,\u2019 he mutters, reaching for his glasses then fumbling to center them on his nose. \u2018You see it\u2019s just that . . . I so look forward to working with a new client who\u2019s committed to achieving better health. I hope you understand.’<\/p>\n
\u2018I . . . that\u2019s fine . . . I understand doctor.\u2019 She waves her fingers back and forth fanning her face.<\/p>\n
‘Is it me or is it getting warm in here?\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Why don\u2019t we begin.\u2019<\/p>\n
They settle into it, spending time on the usual preliminaries, she going over the whys and how longs and with whoms: \u2018break up just last month\u2019; \u2018true my mother was controlling growing up\u2019; \u2018he gave no reason whatsoever.\u2019 He nods and scribbles away on his notepad while she goes on, back to the past, forward, in the middle, as of yesterday, and he scribbles and prods and she reveals and he deciphers and explores and she concedes and he seethes. It is an incredible introduction to psychotherapy, she becoming readily self-absorbed in her own story and he becoming furious in his note taking. It is as if their very souls – his enormous and unwieldy and hers microscopic and constrained – have melted from their temporary lodgings and drained into a single mucous-like puddle on his office floor, salvaged. They are one.<\/p>\n
The process goes uninterrupted except for a moment when she removes her blazer, feeling droplets of sweat gather on the edge of her hairline.<\/p>\n
\u2018It does feel extremely warm in here.\u2019 She fans herself some more, her face shiny and flushed.<\/p>\n
\u2018Continue,\u2019 he implores.<\/p>\n
‘Yes, where was I . . . right, it ended with absolutely no explanation . . .. \u2018<\/p>\n
And so on and so forth. After forty-five minutes they complete the session.<\/p>\n
\u2018Wonderful Judy. I believe we\u2019ve accomplished a great deal for a first meeting.’<\/p>\n
She removes a designer handkerchief from her bag and wipes sweat off her face.<\/p>\n
\u2018Thank you Doctor Hurst. It was quite wonderful for me as well.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018So I\u2019ll expect you back next Tuesday at 2 p.m., yes?\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Yes.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Promise?\u2019<\/p>\n
‘Oh jeez, wait a minute, I just remembered we have a department lunch next Tuesday. Can we . . . \u2018<\/p>\n
\u2018Judy, I thought we had a commitment.’<\/p>\n
\u2018Oh. Yes, well . . . I can do next Wednesday.\u2019<\/p>\n
‘And yet you committed to Tuesdays.\u2019 There is a stare down of sorts, she looking bemused, he looking lost. The room becomes absolutely quiet except for the radiator\u2019s steamy hiss. He gets up from his armchair and picks up her bag, handing it to her gently.<\/p>\n
\u2018Commitment is trust, Judy.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Yes I understand it\u2019s just that next week . . .\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018I\u2019m so sorry but this won\u2019t work for me without a commitment. It\u2019s essential. I do hope to see you next Tuesday.\u2019<\/p>\n
He walks her to the door and gestures her out to the hallway. As he shuts it on her she hears the radiator\u2019s soft hiss barely audible over his whisper, \u2018Commitment is sweat and tears.\u2019<\/p>\n
He turns from the door and removes his blazer. He is positively drenched and his beige dress shirt clings to his huge pink torso. He walks to the thermostat and checks the temperature. 84 degrees. \u2018Perhaps hotter next time,’ he muses, and then again \u2018Sweat and tears.\u2019<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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