A year ago, an experience like this would SEND me to the therapist. Today I was there when I had the experience. Mystical, to say the least. I am in awe of the truth that if I empty myself, life will slowly, but surely, fill me with revelation. Typically, when I enter the waiting room at the Mental Health clinic, I will scan the audience of those waiting simply to get an idea of how many hours I may be expected to hear my name called. Today was no different, except for one thing. Or one person. Upon entering, all eyes, looking a bit glazed with exasperation, became fixed on me. One man, in particular, took it to the next level and questioned me excitedly Are you here on the orders of the U.S. military? My first thought was that he had a gun and we were all hostages and our freedom was contingent upon the response I gave. I looked at the guy next to him, for some kind of clue as to what I should say and he smiled and just shrugged his shoulders and said Play along. This here is Chief So I did. Excuse me? I asked. Did the Intelligence send you? The woman behind the wall there has not smiled and we think she might be a spy. Did you come here with a plan? Why the hell couldnt I get an easy one? I was asking this question in my own head, and it must have been obvious because I heard some giggles, saw a few heads were nodding, but mostly I could feel people thinking poor lady, shouldnt have opened her mouth. He was totally oblivious to anyone else or their lack of concern for this mission that had to be executed. Was I the one sent by Military Intelligence to make a suspected spy - LAUGH? Yes, sir, they sent me. There is a plan. We will get her to laugh. Will that prove to you she is NOT a spy? He banged his walking cane on the floor with each yes - yes - yes - what in the HELL was I doing? The plan I had was to simply go up to Dorothy and quietly explain to her the situation, get her to laugh, and all prisoners would be released of this mans fixed obsession. I go to the window, proudly lay out the plan to Dorothy and she says That would be great Kel, except that the catch is that HE has to laugh also. He failed to mention that because that is the top secret qualifier according to the military. Hes pretty harmless. Just annoying. Let me know if he starts any shit. So now I have to go back to my seat empty handed, face this dude (and the rest of my squadron) with defeat. I sat down and let out a big sigh and pretended to ignore him like everybody else. He might have seemed oblivious to this, another rejection, but I believed, deep down, it had to hit him somewhere. So this is the best I could do: up on the check-in counter, there is a clip board and a large mug that holds the pens. Written across the mug in big letters (I guess the mentally ill are all stupid AND blind) P E N S. I swiftly (like when you pull a band-aid off your skin real fast so it doesnt hurt), in one connected movement, pulled a Sharpie out of my back pack, went up to the desk, did my vandalism, and sat back down. I made sure to turn the pen cup toward everyone so that they could see it. Applause. Giggle. Giggle. Well, I be damned, look at that. It wasnt, as my Mississippi friend would say, a guffaw from the group, but it constituted smiles. MY concern was Chief - did he approve? He went up to the window and banged on it and called Dorothys name. He says Hey Dorothy, did you see what the U.S. Army did to your cup? Dorothy opened her cage glass, saw the mug and shrieked with laughter and called the psychiatrist (mine) to look at it. The Chief dumped all the pens and took the cup and put it in his back pack. He said he had to return it to headquarters as proof that the mission was complete. The cup? It no longer said P E N S, but P E N I S. I added a great big black I And the Chiefs name? Carroll. That was my dads name. I think I made my dad laugh today.
Posted on: Fri, 01 Aug 2014 18:54:57 +0000
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