So Rina goes, why don't you go to the Center, I never see
you there, it's an alcohol-free, womyn-friendly space.
Oh, peachy, I say, that's a real upper, it's nothing but wall
to wall support groups. Who wants to hear your own problems reflected
back at you times 10. No, it's not, she says, there are social
events, too, and I say, Get real! Country line dancing, no THANK
you, it's like bad aerobics with hay stuck in your teeth, even
the Chlamydia Support Circle looks good next to that. All those
groups, they're as demoralizing as therapy, only without the
relief or the attention.
Although I did fall for a really cute therapist once, big
big blue eyes so full of sympathy, every time I looked into them
I burst out crying, and that was hardly becoming. Plus it's extremely
irritating to have to PAY to see someone you have a crush on,
especially when there's an insurance deductible, and Blue Cross
doesn't cover it anymore anyway.
At least in a bar you get pretzels with your longing. (CONTINUES