Some days I really want to have clients who are not 10-13 year old boys.
If it’s not the sitting gloomily indifferent with the one syllable answers, it’s the open zippers, the unconscious “adjustments,” the random fartage, or the goofiness that leads to endless nacho cheese-no-not-yo-cheese-haw-haw-haw-hee cycles. Because when you’ve spent two minutes talking about losing your temper in class and being tossed out, you have got to spend the next forty making up for it with that well-known defense mechanism known as “irrelevance.”
Someone send me a girl. A troubled, yet not farting and adjusting, girl. Who talks rather than throwing the Piglet puppet and stuffed monkey around the room. Or doesn’t talk. Whatev. Just so long as we’re able to manage the hour without busting out the air freshener.
No comments
Comments feed for this article