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Judy Tellysvie from Bentontownhall, Peoria, Ill. writes:
Dear Lemondrop,
I recently was forced by my insurance to switch therapists, and the results have been a mixed bag. The therapy is actually better: my dizzy spells, headaches, intestinal cramping and panic attacks have all but ceased. The young doctor has very pleasant manners and is a joy to talk to. I feel like we are making terrific progress! The only strange thing is, whenever I close my eyes, lying on the couch as I do, I know I am going to hear it: the crinkle of waxed paper on a McDonald’s Egg McMuffin or cheeseburger, the scritch of his fingers going after fries int he carton, or the polite slurping he makes on the straw as his beverage gets down towards the bottom of the cup. See, he goes through at least three fast food takeout bags during every single session, and is thin as a rail! I am not sure I am comfortable with this sort of multi-tasking. After all it is MY insurance footing the bill.
Lemon replies:
Ah yes, Dr. Smackabouts has his fast food fetish. Many life patients such as yourself have come to me for advice after experiencing therapy in Smackabouts’ offices on Kinny Lane in Peoria. And yet aside from his lard breath and greasy pencil moustache, and the way he rubs his hands together greedily while suggesting those arcane thought experiments, is there in fact anything to complain about, if the therapy does the trick? Perhaps you could bring your OWN bag of fast food takeout next time, and turn the session into a little picnic.
Cover image generated on Magic Studio
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No. 59
Cartoons by Laurie Rosenwald
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