Enjoy.... there will be more forthcoming.... “God, it sucks to be me.” “And why do you feel that way?” I shake my head ever so slightly. I do not even bother to get upset with that. Chomper is just being himself. I could choke him for that. Back in his domain for another hour, on another day; why, oh why do I put up with him and his cynical ways? Oh, yeah. He makes Cantrell pay. I lay draped across the overstuffed sofa in his office. I wasn’t sitting in that chair ever again. Besides, today my back hurts. The critter sharing my body is playing footsies with my insides. I have heartburn, and my feet are swollen. But that’s beside the point. “The point is, Chom – doctor, that being me sucks, man! Do you know how embarrassing it is to stand in line, with a cart full of stuff and be told that your credit card has been cancelled?” I struggle to pull myself up to a sitting position, and give up. Lying down feels appropriate today, for some reason. Maybe I am nuts. “No, Mrs. Byers-Milling. I cannot say that I have ever had that experience.” Chomper leans back in his chair, and does that steeple thing with his fingers again, flashing that perfect smile. He makes me ill. “My name is – Oh, forget it.” I fling my arm across my face, covering my eyes. “No, let’s explore this issue. You feel it, sucks, as you say, to be you. Why is that?” He looked as if he had a hard time saying “suck.” Hmm. This could be fun. “I know you’re probably not used to other Black folks saying suck,” I started. “But I say suck, lot. My life sucks. And if you have a problem with me saying suck, then suck this, you sucky mothersucker!” I succeeded that time in sitting up. It made my head spin, but at least I wasn’t wearing silk. I would have slid right off the couch. That wouldn’t have been good at all. Chomper raised his eyebrows and leaned forward so suddenly, the chair legs scraped the floor. I bet the carpet cost less than the job on his teeth, though. “So much aggression, Mrs. Byers-Milling. Would you like to explore that?” He looked so sincere that I almost offered him a cookie. I took a deep breath, letting it flow through my body. Then, I slowly rotated my neck and shoulders. I wished that I could get into lotus position and mediate instead of listening to his inane prattle. I could settle for corpse position, but only if someone would help me off the floor after I got down there. I glanced at Chomper, checking through my long eyelashes to see if he was watching me. And he was. Waiting patiently, he twirled a gold fountain pen in his longs fingers. His yellow legal pad lay at his feet, long forgotten. Personally, I think the man is lonely. He enjoys these visits too much. But, like I was saying, I went shopping the other day. Had the cart all loaded up, got in line, thinking I was going to spend some of Cantrell’s hard earned money. Didn’t happen. Why? That butthead canceled my credit cards! I’ll have you know that this means war! “Don’t you think that’s a bit strong, Risa?” “My name is – Wait. Did you call me Risa?” “I’m sorry. That was unprofessional of me.” Chomper flashed that smile again, only this time, it was different. Softer, somehow. Oh, right. Like the man would be taken with his married, crazy, pregnant patient. That would never happen. Would it?