Three Men in Therapy: A Writing Exercise

    “Gentlemen. Come in. Have a seat,” the therapist said motioning towards the sofa.

    Three men walked into the office in single file. The first two plopped onto the sofa. The third one walked past the the sofa and sat down in an armchair.

    “Let’s begin, shall we?” the therapist said.

    “Sure. These two are fucking idiots,” said the man in the armchair. “Wow. That felt good. Thanks for this. It really helped.” He stood up.

    The therapist smiled. “Things come easy for you, don’t they?” Without waiting for a response he continued. “Please,” he said motioning to the armchair with an open palm. “You just arrived. Give me a chance before you rush out.”

    The man rolled his eyes and sat down.

    “Now, I understand that there are some hard feelings between you gentlemen.”

     This time the two men on the sofa stood up.

    “Hard feelings? Hard feelings?” said the shorter of the two. “We almost died.”

    “Yeah and who’s fault was that, I wonder?” said the man in the armchair looking up at the two standing men.

     “Seriously?” said the taller of the two. “How the hell were we supposed to know? You tell me. How?”

    The man in the sofa sighed. “Oh, I don’t know. Common sense maybe?”

    “This is bullshit man. We were just trying to live our lives,” said the shorter man.

    “Gentlemen. Please. Let’s take a closer look at that, shall we? Sit, sit,” said the therapist.      

    The two men sat back down.

    “You say you that you were just trying to live your lives. There are responsibilities associated with that, wouldn’t say? How much planning did you do beforehand?” The two men broke eye contact. Looked down at their feet.

    “Diddly squat. That’s how much fucking planning they did,” said the man in the armchair. “They put no thought into it. Just  “la di da” and we’re done. Then all hell breaks loose, and what do they do? They come crying and screaming to me for help.”

    The two men shifted on the sofa uncomfortably.

    “Not only did I put thought into living my life,” the man in the armchair said, “I put in the time and the effort.”

     “Because of that,” he said pointing to the two men on the couch, “I was able to do what I did. Save your shiny pink asses. His finger moved forward with each word.

     The taller man held his face in his hands. The shorter man was trembling as he spoke, “What the hell do you want from us?”

     “Well, that is why we’re all here now, isn’t it?” said the therapist.

     The man in the armchair stood up again. “I don’t want shit from these two losers. I just want to get the fuck out of here.”

    “Now is that anyway to talk about family?” the therapist said. The man sighed and sat back down.

    “Everything comes easy for you,” said the therapist. “Quick to catch on. Quick to make a decision. Always the right decisions. You planned and prepared extremely well where they, well did piss poorly. Have some patience.”

    The two men had questioning looks on their faces.

    “After the two of you were saved, what did you say?” asked the therapist.

    The two men looked at each other and then looked at the therapist.

     “Nothing,” said the shorter man.

    “We said nothing,” said the the taller man,

    The room was silent. The man in the armchair looked straight ahead, not looking at anything in particular.

    The therapist and the two men looked at each other. The therapist glanced at the man in the armchair, then looked back at the two men. The therapist shrugged.

    “We never…” said the shorter man.

    “...said thank you.” finished the taller man. “We never said thank you for saving our lives.”

    “Yeah,” the man in the armchair whispered as he looked away.

    “Thank you,” the two men said in unison.

    The man in the armchair stood up. The two men stood up. They looked and the therapist. He nodded.

    “Whatever. Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here,” the man who had been sitting in the armchair said. The two men hesitated. The man by the armchair motioned with his hand and said, “Come on, let’s go.” The three men went through the door.

    “‘Grass? Sticks? Really?” Said the man who had been sitting in the armchair. “What were you two knuckleheads thinking?”

    The door closed behind him. The therapist smiled.

Afterword:

The exercise here was to have characters from a folk tale or fairy tale talking to a therapist about their lives and problems, and for the therapist to arrive at a diagnosis. I played around with it a little and changed the characters into men. Not sure how successful I was but it sure was a fun.

Next: Comic Books and Childish Things