"Fuck me."
The clock struck Monday and rising from my bed, the hangover sat in a bit as blood rushed to back of my head. That feeling, it gave me a bit of excitement for a second. It was peculiar. It felt good. Having experienced plenty of hangovers, nine times out of ten I hated every moment of them. A few seconds ago? Nearly meditative.
A splash of cold water snapped me out of it a little as I got my day going. Looking into the mirror, a difference was felt. An alteration as far as my overall nature had been made. Only, pinpointing this exact alteration was proving to be impossible. The reasonable response was that I felt "different."
On Mondays the center liked to have a morning meeting. Doctor Wilson Hillenberg was our chief if you will. An easy-going guy. He studied at Harvard in the late 60s and then left psychology. He then became a beatnik in the early seventies. Then he discovered mindfulness meditation. From there he began traveling across the middle east and southeast Asia, learning from several highly regarded spiritual teachers. He was an interesting. Extremely zen.
Yet, he could express himself fully. He was no soft spiritual type. In essence, he was still a cool dude.
"Doctor Anders." Doctor Hillenberg called out. "Heard about the accident.
Glad you're in. You okay?"
"Yeah, I feel fine."
"Good, good. Sometimes, we get ourselves into these crazy situations in the name of a good me. And then something goes wrong and, well, you know."
"Thank you for your concern sir."
"Always."
Doctor Lagasse filed in along with Doctor Xavier Bell. Doctor Enrique Gonzalez and Doctor Rebecca Yui. Doctor Bell had been here for two years and was the type that wanted to jump his way up the professional ladder but didn't have it in him. Doctor Gonzalez was a seasoned veteran. He had been at the practice for six years. But had his own office for four years prior to joining. Doctor Yu was a wunderkind. She graduated high school at 15. College at 18. Got her Masters at 19. And of course, earned her P.H in Psychology the day of her 21stbirthday. She was my age, but already someone who was to be reckoned with in the world of psychology.
Every Monday, Doctor Hillenberg had us all sit in a circle, group therapy style. It was new. However, it did make for unusual dynamics that would in turn be able to help the center��s growth. At least that was one way of looking at it. Doctor Hillenberg did what he wanted to do. I'll leave it at that.
"Good morning everyone." Doctor Hillenberg started, smiling from ear to eye with his natural brightness. He's been like this every day. I don't see how he can keep it up. "Trust that everyone, well, everyone else had a safe weekend?"
"Anders, what exactly happened to you?" Doctor Bell asked.
"I'm sure you have some awareness." I snapped back.
"It was just a little "whoa" you know what I mean? Did a tether break? You didn't have everything worked out already?"
"Bell, did you sit down on the ground when you were a baby as your mom cooked in the kitchen?"
"Yeah, didn't you?"
"No. And that is why I do not have a feet fetish."
Bell began to have think blank look on his feet as he then started to retreat a bit with his body language. These were games that we played. Who could call out who on some little inconsistency that they possessed. In a world where Doctor of Medicine and the mind are expected to be the avengers, it was a nice reminder of our humanity.
"I believe we've all touched upon what happened to Doctor Anders." Doctor Hillenberg interjected, redirecting the flow once again. "I can safely assume that everyone here is glad that you are okay."
"Yeah, for sure…" I began as something within me twitched. Smells of freshly wounded human flesh filled my nostrils, intoxicating me like a hit off the pipe. Everyone was looking at me, as though this pause was meaningful. Meanwhile, I was trying all my might to not let this out.
Doctor Lagasse was across from me, slightly to my right. She was the face that I felt the most comfortable with. Whatever separate pasts we had, it created a ease within our present moments when we engaged with one another. I focused on her to get rid of the desire, to stop this craving that was lower than filth.
"Doctor Anders?" Doctor Hillenberg started. "What is going on?"
"From where I'm sitting, he has an attraction towards Doctor Lagasse." Doctor
Rebecca stated.
"Can't blame the young man." Doctor Gonzalez added. "He is at that age."
Staring into her eyes, Doctor Lagasse was silent. This was not at all what anyone thought it was. I was simply trying not to dig into someone's cut. Of course, I was into her. But this was not the way that I was going to be expressing that. Sad how things turn out versus your expectations.
"Am I missing something?"
"Excuse me." I said, getting out of there and heading right out. I took a deep breath in to get rid of the sensations that I was feeling. Kneeling onto the grass, I put myself in child's position yoga style and breathed deeply in and out. The crazed feeling inside of me was beginning to let go of its grip.
"Doctor Anders." Doctor Lagasse called out, catching up to me. "Are you
okay?"
"Oh, no worries." I said, making sure that I wasn't going to throw up.
"Then you've been wanting to make sure of that ever since we left the hospital."
Coming to my side, Doctor Lagasse helped me up. Ever since that night she had been sweet to me. Perhaps it was guilt, but she was all over me. On one end it was a bit annoying. Yet, I couldn't help but enjoy the attention. Especially from someone who was normally the one that people wanted to get to.
"You know as well as I do that physiological shifts can affect your mental
health." Doctor Lagasse pointed out.
"You want to psychoanalyze me Doctor Lagasse?" I used to retort.
"Tell me Richard." Doctor Lagasse said, catching me off guard by addressing me by my first name. "What's your hang up with me? Why will you not hear me out?" Is it because I'm a woman? It's okay, I'm not a hardcore feminist."
This felt like a trap to me. Everything that has gone down has influenced her. Emotionally more so than psychologically. And now she needs somewhere to dump it all. Someway to resolve it. I would of course be the easiest way to do. It felt so desperate to me.
"This has nothing to do with you Doctor Lagasse." I replied. "Believe me."
"Please, Zoey."
"What is Zoey short for anyway?"
"I don't know. Zoetrope?"
"I see why you wouldn't want to go by that."
"Ha, you're a lot more fun when you're like this."
It looks like the focus and drive on me devouring human flesh and drink the blood as if it were wine and then me doing my hardest not to act upon those said desires was making me looser when it came to Zoey. I wasn't showing too much modesty as my intentions with her were currently on the back burner.
"We should hang out again." Zoey suggested. "This time, lower key."
"Make me dinner." I said, no blurted out.
"Oh, well, sure." Zoey said. "Why not?"
"Yeah. Why not?"
A police car pulled up and parked right in front of us as a detective came in. He wore brown pants, black dress shoes, a grey button up and a red tie. He was an Indian American and he had a super and I mean super fake tough guy look to him.
"Doctor Richard Anders?" The Detective inquired.
Inside my office I got the detective a glass of water. His name was Detective Hamza Sabri. He had been with the L.A.P.D for fifteen years now. Had cracked a ton of cases that I had heard about briefly on the 11pm news. With that came that smug presence one presents when they feel a little bit too good about their egoic themselves.
"Doctor Anders, how are you feeling?"
"Surprised to see you here."
"I would imagine."
"So, detective Sabri, what is this?"
"I'm sure that you're aware of the recent spread of the creatures called Demons. Sounds like something straight from Steven Pressfield, but hey, I ain't fucking with them. Anyhow, they are a thing and your reaction when you left the hospital Saturday morning according to the medical staff is in fact on the spectrum. "
"Is that so?"
"I'm afraid to say it, but it is indeed so."
"I don't know what to say detective. I feel fine."
"Sure, you feel fine now. But when you are drinking the blood out of some nice young thing's neck that you just ripped off while they were on a date with their high school boyfriend you'll plead non guilty due to insanity."
"Probably would."
"Can't say I didn't warn you."
"Detective, what do you want me to do here?"
"I want to know that if it does turn out that you were in fact infected that you would turn yourself in."
"I wouldn't have any other choice, would I?"
"No, I suppose you would not."
"Are we done here? I have patients to see."
"For sure. Quick recovery. I heard something about these Demons. They can heal at rapid rates."
"If all of my years of paying tens of thousands of dollars a year for and education taught me one thing, that the power of the body, mind and spirit working together is second to none."
Smirking, detective Sabri walked out of my office. I promise you, my life was nowhere near as eventful as the last few days. I was a normal member of the rat race, just like everyone else. Now I have all these things that I must deal with all at once.
BUZZ!
Right on time was Robin. Less timid than our initial session. She was wearing a green wool beanie. Her jeans were no longer ripped, she wore a polo and her hair was dyed dark black. I began to faintly here Zoey's words of advice in my head as Robin came towards me.
"What's up doc?" She asked as I began to twitch.
"Please, have a seat." I said, motioning her to her seat as I turned away.
"Hey, are you okay?"
"Yeah." I said, beginning to shake. "Just."
The impulses that were raging inside of my couldn't control themselves. This desire to tear into some human flesh and dig in. Robin, just standing there, young, short, and fit. She is just wanting my attention. She was too easy of a target.
Jumping towards her I pinned Robin right onto the ground. As I made my way to her neck and planted my lips squarely on her left side, I felt her soft hand petting the back of my head. The calming effect was enough to make me cease going after her. I then began to rest on her body as she petted me with grace.
"It's okay." Robin said, her voice's vibrations funneling straight into my ear.
I got up and looked directly at her body laying on the ground. You already know how bad this looks. Everyone was in their office, so they didn't see it. I got away with it. Robin didn't seem to mind it at all. Outside of this situation, that alone created my intrigue as a physician working with her.
"To say the least that was completely and totally out of line." I began.
"I'm so sorry."
"Why be?" Robin said, getting herself off the ground. "It was kind of cool how you couldn't control yourself. Guys tend to hold back for so long."
"No, it's not that…"
"I have an idea of what it is."
Robin stood there smiling at like as though she had one up on me. Guess it was obvious to her that I had been infected. Was she insinuating wanting to turn me in? Her intentions were more than a bit hazy right now. Patients tended to like to get the better of their doctors, but she was going at it with a very calculated attitude.
"I had an accident on Saturday night and…"
"You don't have to fill me in on your adventures. I'm on the clock, aren't I?"
"Yes."
"Okay, just making sure."
"Moving on, how have you been feeling since Friday?"
"Better. I haven't been as suicidal as usual. So, there's that."
"That is serious progress. I mean it."
"I guess."
"By how much are your suicidal thoughts down?"
Robin began to ponder silently, twisting her body in all kinds of direction. I had really stumbled upon a unique patient to observe. In a lot of ways, Robin was healthy. Witty, resilient, resourceful, and brave. On the spiral dynamics scale, she showed signs of green and yellow. Problem was that her processing skills were stuck in red.
"I'm not really suicidal in the morning."
"How many times a day are you suicidal?"
"Now? By noon, then lunch, then dinner time, after dinner time and right
before bed."
"There will be a slow erosion of those tendencies as well. Robin, have you ever done any kind of body work?"
"Body work?"
"Yoga, Pilates, deep stretching."
"Oh. No, not really. I do run on the treadmill and work the machines."
"That is a start. However, I would like for you to try some yoga to you know, feel through your emotions."
"How can Yoga help me with that?"
"Emotions. Simply energy in motion. All that energy is trapped inside the body. And the body always keeps score."
"Intense."
"It really is. There is a friend of mine, she runs a small yoga studio…"
"An ex?"
"Anyway, I'll give her your contact info and you can get started. Don't worry about the membership."
"Sounds good. Thanks."
"Of course.
"So, Doctor Anders, want to hang out sometime?"
I kept silent just to make sure that I my hearing was not failing me. Did a patient just ask me out? I've heard of patients becoming romantically interested in their psychologists before, but this was nowhere near where Robin's head needed to be right now.
"Do you think that you need to see another psychologist?"
"No! Why do you ask?"
"Because I'm sure you're aware of how compromising your request would be."
"What? Two people going to Starbucks and getting some iced coffee?"
"I'm a juice person."
"We can fix that."
"There will be no fixing of anything because we're not going to be hanging out."
"What if I said I could help you?"
"Help me with what?"
"With your affliction. I could be of assistance."
"And what would you be able to do?"
"You got to give me a chance to show what I got. Don't you?"
"Robin, can we get back to your session?"
Robin sat there, staring at me. Her eyes, as cool as an icicle in an Antarctic cave. The entertainment that she was gleaning from this much have be immense for her to plow through my rejections like that. I have to say though, what if she could help me? Thus far, she has been heads up about it and has remained calm. Though, it is hard to say whether that's emotional maturity or apathy and emptiness.
"We can get ice cream sometime." I folded.
"Sounds great. Text me the time and which one later alright?"
We finished our session as walked Robin out once again. The wrongness of my dealing with her was beginning to fill my blood. While yes, she was directing this situation in a lot of ways, because of my own selfish reasons I was allowing for it to self-actualize. And for that, I was feeling like scum.
Robin, just like last time, got on her board and was off. And, just like last time, Zoey was there. Only this time, she wasn't coming down on me with my behavior towards Robin. Instead, she stood right next to me, watching Robin board away.
"She's something else huh?" Zoey commented.
"Yeah, really."
���Want to hang out tonight?"
"Is this déjà vu?"
"Thought I'd get it right this time around."
"I don't know Zoey, it's Monday night."
"So what?"
"I like to be distraction free during the week."
"Excuse me?"
"I didn't mean it that way."
"Then what way did you mean it?"
"It's all about energy. It's limited. For all of us. I need to make sure that my energy is spent the proper way. Now, the way that I see it, I have two options. I could put my energy into sex, drugs and alcohol, which are fun as hell. But then they suck all my energy. Or, I could put my energy into my work and actually have a positive return."
"Hmm."
"You see what I'm saying?"
"Sounds like a copout. But okay. In this case, it isn't about what is right.
It's about what feels good."
"I don't know what to say. I've been shedding my ego."
"It's ain't all gone."
"Look, want to get a drink at Barney's or something?"
"Sounds reasonable."
"Okay then, let's go. I'll give you directions."
Not too far from the office, just down in West Hollywood was Barney's Beanery. Barney's was a toned-down Dave and Busters. Had an extended menu of the same type of food, more expensive drinks, way less games, and more of that burp beer smell.
"Karaoke night!" Zoey exclaimed as I groaned. That was most definitely one activity that I was not in the mood for.
We got a booth as the waitress came to takeout orders. Her name was Welcy.
I thought it sounded unique. Anyway, I ordered a Jack and Coke, make sure to put the lime on the side please. Zoey ordered an old fashioned. The character surprises kept on coming.
"What song are you singing?" Zoey asked me.
"I choose nothing. You?"
"Uptown girl. And why not?"
"You are a why person aren't you?"
"Aren't you."
"My preference is to see to see how things worked."
"Then don't you suppose that you go ahead and choose a song?"
"I know how karaoke works."
"Just do it!"
"I don't know…"
"Should be your tagline."
"Look, I just don't like to…"
"Put yourself out there?"
"Why do you keep finishing my sentences?"
"Richard, the real question is, how do I know what you're going to say?"
"Clairvoyance?"
"My third eye? Been opened."
After smiling, Zoey got up, grabbed me and next thing you know, were signing up for karaoke. Having no choice, I went in headfirst and signed up. I decided to go ahead and go be a man from Disney' Mulan. Something about that song that resonated.
Our drinks had arrived as we cheered each other. The night was certainly going a lot smoother than last Saturday. This was…nice. Just hanging out here with Zoey. She was chill and liked to drink. With specs like those, perhaps there was room for her somewhere.
"Zoey Lagasse!" The karaoke booth guy called out. "You're up!"
Taking one nice long chug, Zoey slammed the remains of her old fashioned as she strutted towards the karaoke stage. Grabbing the mic, flipping her hair out of her face, the game face was on. As the song began, her hips began to move. Once the lyrics popped onto the screen, she was in full force. Another part of her was activated. She not only had the pipes to carry the tunes, but she had the dance moves to add something interesting to it. During the start of the chorus, she directly looked at me in the eyes, throwing me a wink and a kiss.
Electrifying.
Once the song was over, everyone was on their feet as a standing ovation was given. Sheesh. There was no way that I was going to be able to follow that.
There must have been a bit of premeditation going on here. Perhaps Zoey enjoyed watching her men squirm.
Going up to the stage to grab the mic from Zoey, I couldn't help but notice this guy looking over her. Of course, there would be eyes on her, I'm not that needy. But this guy had some strong intent in his eyes. He was about to become that wolf that went nuts in those old Tex Avery Cartoons.
As Zoey got a seat the guy made his move. Even though it was my turn, I couldn't help me observe his actions. He proceeded to hit on Zoey as she turned him down. Yet, he persisted. It was possible that he saw her resistance as playing hard to get. Either way, this was annoying me.
"Uh bro." The karaoke started. "You going to sing or what?
"Sure, I'll sing."
I began to sing be a man as this man went to town making on Zoey. I observed his poor attempts as she continued to back further and further away from him from the stage. As the song came to a close, he began to put him arm around her and I threw away that mic like it was expired milk.
"Everything okay?" I asked as soon as I arrived at the table."
"What's up brah?" The man, we'll just call him douchebag, asked.
"We're on a date here, brah."
"Okay."
"Okay, so, leave."
"Why should I leave?"
"Because I don't think that she is interested."
'Well, how do you know that? You were singing brah."
'I could see you two from the stage, this whole time."
"He's right." Zoey said, coming closer towards me. "I'm not interested."
"Peace." I said as Zoey and I got our drinks and walked away."
"Cunt." The douchebag uttered under his breath.
When one calls your date an unflattering name, there are a multitude of ways that you can respond. You can do what I would advise my patients to do, take a deep breath and walk away. It is for sure, the more mature approach. Right about now after drinking half of that Jack and Coke and a little "Demon" in me, the "the mature" approach did not intrigue.
"What did you just call her?" I commanded to know as I walked back towards him."
"Richard, it's not that big of a deal." Zoey commented. "There's another booth right there."
"You heard me." The douchebag said. "A cunt."
Looking into the douchebag's eyes, I can see a world of pain that resided deeply with in him. My assumption off our brief interaction is that is a kind of pick up artist. Plays the numbers game and goes for the low hanging fruit. But his inability to create a strong bond with these women leave them cold and they end up leaving him. Sounds harsh? Well, that's a lot of guys in a world where you either feel trapped or loveless.
Feeling into his distressed being, I started to walk away. Then, this urge came over not. Not to eat human flesh. But a crazier version of fight or flight. It was as though the douchebag was being registered as a severe threat and my primitive mind was taking over.
Turning back, I decked the dude right in the jaw. He was knocked into the wall right behind him. The music stopped as everyone was now looking over to this corner of the bar. Looking over to see how Zoey felt, she was looking at me as though I had transformed into the incredible hulk. I inspected my fists, wondering just what the hell was going on.
Just what the hell has gotten into me?
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