A: Patient appears to struggle with self-control and moderation.
P: Patient to make a list of positive and negative consequences of her impulsive episode.
It was heading toward midnight and I was trying to get the ten charts I identified up to snuff. I was putting the finishing touches on Martha Stewart’s.
Martha goes nuts over Krispy Kremes. She spent an entire session talking about how good they are. I still remember it clearly.
“They come down that big conveyer belt from the oven and they’re still so warm,” her eyes were as glazed over as a glazed cruller. “They’re awesome and they feel so good going down.”
“Martha, it’s probably not a good idea to obsess like th-”
“… and they have this coating. It’s white and it’s both crispy and sweet. It’s like, uh… like…”
“Liquefied sugar?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Martha made six trips to the donut shop that day, eating a few warm ones from each batch. She was so overcome with warmth from the deep-fried carbo that she hung around after closing to have a go with Vassily, the Ukrainian guy who works the counter. Martha explained that she became uncontrollably attracted to Vassily and just had to have him. I think my correspondence course in Intro to Psych said that was projection. No, maybe it was displacement. Anyway, I was moving on to the Jewish couple when I heard someone coming up the stairs. I stepped out of the cubicle to see what was going on. It was Trina.
“Hey,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
“I saw your car outside and thought you might be here,” she said.
“It’s almost midnight, isn’t it?”
“Well,” Trina sounded like she had had a few-not drunk, but glowing. “I think it’s past midnight, Duff.”
Aside from the glow, she was looking good-faded Guess jeans, black leather boots with a three-inch heel, tight black turtleneck, and a leather jacket.
“Duffy, I worry about you.” She took a step toward me.
“You worry about me?” I said.
“I’m afraid you’re going to get hurt, or get fired, or maybe catch pneumonia in that can you live in.”
“Not to mention get eaten alive by that wild animal I live with.”
“That too.” Trina paused. “It’s not my place to say, but I’m going to say something anyway.”
She was barely a foot away from me, and I got the feeling up my spine that was part nervousness and part excitement. I guess tonight you could also add part confusion.
“You could do a lot better than Lisa.” She moved even closer to me.
“Ah, Trina… where’s Lou?”
She stopped moving forward. You could see that whatever state of mind she was in was suddenly changed. She looked away and awkwardly put her hands in her pockets. Her eyes welled up.
“Lou… was out with someone else tonight. He told me…” her voice trailed away as she stifled tears.
“I’m sorry, Trina. I didn’t mean to-”
“Don’t worry, Duff, he was a jerk. I just have to get over the shock of-”
“Being alone and scared?”
“Yeah.”
“I know a little about that too,” I exhaled. “Lisa called us off.”
I hugged her and she held on to me tightly. She quietly cried into my shoulder and neither of us said anything. She held me even tighter and the pressure of her body went right through me. It was part physical and part something else. Something I couldn’t find a label for.
“Trina, is there anything I can do to help?”
She pulled back from me, her eyes wet with tears, bit her lower lip, and smiled. The smile was a genuine one, and it made for a weird combination with the tears.
“Yeah, Duff, there is.”
Trina stepped back, tilted her head, and smirked at me. She shrugged out of her leather coat and gently untucked the turtleneck from the top of her jeans.
“Duffy, did I ever tell you how much I love your blue eyes?”
“No, I would’ve remembered that,” I said.
“Or your really strong jaw line?” She ran her finger the length of my really strong-looking jaw line.
“Er, uh, no.” That was the best I could come up with.
“Tonight I would love to feel like a very hot, desirable woman.”
With that she turned on her heel and slowly started to walk through the office. I stood transfixed, wondering exactly what Monopoly square I landed on today. A few steps later, Trina’s turtleneck fell to the carpet and her hands reached up to undo the clasp of her bra. Without breaking stride, a step and a half later, the bra went the way of the sweater.
Though I am quite capable of cerebral pondering, this clearly wasn’t the time. I followed Trina’s strip march through the agency. I found her in Claudia’s office. She was shimmying out of her Guesses in that way that makes men stand back and feel grateful. She slid her thumbs into the thin piece of material that made up the strap of her thong, and in one motion whisked it off and threw it in my direction.
She used both hands to hike herself up on Claudia’s desk. Her naked body stood out in stark contrast to all the trappings of an office, especially this office.
“Duff, haven’t you always wanted to sit in the boss’s chair?”
“Actually, not until this very moment.”
I sat in Claudia’s chair facing Trina. This was getting very weird.
“Isn’t this the position your corner man is in between rounds of a fight?”
“I guess so.”
“Let’s go a few rounds.”
With that, there was the tussle of getting out of my clothes, the hurried groping and touching that comes before two people find a rhythm. We did it with an intensity that brought the two of us together and, at least for then, chased away any feelings of aloneness. I felt both in and out of my body as Trina surged through me.
Breathing hard, glistening with sweat, we both got where we were going, seemingly all at once. It was intense and it was passionate. We finished up on top of Claudia’s desk, our naked bodies spread over the top of it with all her pens and pencils and knickknacks knocked to the floor. When my consciousness returned and I looked around at where we were, I couldn’t help but start laughing. Trina joined me, and we slid off the top of the Michelin Woman’s desk onto the carpet, both rolling around with laughter.
“We just screwed on top of the boss’s desk, you know,” Trina said when she could breathe again.
“Yeah,” I thought for a second. “I can’t even begin to think of the amount of time in psychotherapy I’m going to need to process that.”
“Thank you, Duff. It was what I needed tonight.”
“I’m glad I could do you the favor.”
Trina punched me in the side then nuzzled her head into the crook of my neck. We laid back on Claudia’s carpet amongst the debris from the top of the desk. Trina rolled over on top of me, straddling me with her legs.
“You feel like doing me another favor?”
“If I must,” I said. Trina was insistent on another favor, and I did my best to comply. When it was over, we did our best to straighten up the Michelin Woman’s desk.
It was the most fun I ever had in this office.
15
“Hey Duff, didya hear about the Polish water polo tragedy?” Sam asked on his way to the coffee machine.
“Mornin’, Sam,” I said.
