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Sunday, September 17, 2006
Why Your Dick Hates You For Going Into Psychiatry
I went on a date this fair evening, which is Saturday for those of you who aren't night owls and actually have days delineated by time and not by when you wake up. A coworker had a friend that he thought I would be "perfect" for, and I'm a total dumbass and accepted. Call it desperation, call it my vagina getting pissed at me, call it free dinner and drinks, I shall call it "hell" and "dumbassery."
It started off decent enough. I met him at a local restaurant, we had a few drinks while we waited for our table, conversation was awkward but not unpleasant. Typical first date bullshit. He told me why he went into psychiatry, I told him why I sold my soul to the devil for a six figure salary went into law. Tra la fucking la.
Halfway through dinner he started getting weird on me. The topic of family came up, as it usually does on first dates, and instead of glossing over things he started getting all psychoanalytical on my ass. The mention of six brothers sent him into a tizzy of Freudian spooge.
"Wow. Six brothers. You must be a bit of a tomboy then, no?"
"I think I grew out of tomboy when I hit ten. After that it just evolved into being a bit of me."
"Well, with that much male influence in your life I'd assume you have a lot of male attributes."
"Well, I don't want to whip my dick out on the table. It might make you feel incompetent in some way."
"See? You're aggressive like a guy."
"Aggressive trumps asshole."
"Are you like this with all the guys you go out with?"
"If by 'this" you mean myself, then yes. I'm just a walking ball of sarcastic glee. It's one of my more charming attributes."
"So you hate men?"
"Excuse me?"
"You're bitter and jaded, or so it seems. "
"And next you'll start telling me this all goes back to my relationship with my father, right? Isn't that how these things go? Daddy didn't love me enough, or something like that."
"No, it wasn't Daddy."
"Then what was it?"
"My guess? A guy you invested a lot of emotion effectively cut all ties in a blink of an eye, leaving you a wounded little bird. To cope and tell the oustide world that you are strong and don't care you cast it all aside. It turned into being bitter and jaded, and hating men."
"Yea, that's kind of funny because the guy was willing to toss his life away for me, even though he knew it wasn't right. I wouldn't let him. I left, just like I'm going to do now."
And that's it. I'm a bit too old to pull the "Oh, really? Oh, I'll be there right away" faux emergency phone call deal, and I'm far to shitty to sit things out. If I'm having a bad time, I'm not staying around much longer. Thus, I got up, thanked him for the drinks, and walked straight to my car so that I could salvage whatever was left of my night with shooters and body shots [served off me, of course].
There's a lesson to be learned here, people. Going into psychiatry [and gynocology] is going to lead you down a terrible, horrible, disgusting path of never getting pussy again. Or at least ever having raw, crazy, fucked up, amazing sex.
Or the lesson could be that I really am an incorrigible cunt. Either or.
kitty kat spoke at 4:28 PM
and
13 people united to combat the evil fucking care bear stare
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