AllFreeNovel
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I walk through the doors and take the elevator up to her floor. Exiting, I come face to face with a window of the city. Pretty… until I spot DuPont’s building. Struggling to swallow the vomit in my mouth and the need to abruptly walk away from that hideous sight.
Coaxing myself to continue with this mission by reminding myself why I am there. It seems to help when I stomp toward her door… I am George, the old hobbled man. Entering the waiting room, it’s a dull but warm decor. Generic. Plants, warm colors, inspirational quotes to gag on.
A sign on the wall says to ring the bell. Today, I decide George needs to be an ass, keep up appearances and all. I ring the bell several times.
An attractive and fairly older woman swings the door open rather harshly. She places her hand over mine that is still on the bell—ringing it. I leer back at her.
“Mr. Smith.” She narrows her eyes.
“George, call me George,” I firmly state.
She nods and pulls the door open farther, letting me by her. I hobble by and look around her office. Desk in the corner facing the windows. A dark leather couch that can accommodate any person’s style sits adjacent to her desk. A backbreaking chair that she sits in faces the couch. How is that thing comfortable? It looks like a space chair.
“The hell is that?” I point to the chair.
“It’s an ergonomic chair. Helps with posture since I can sit for an extended period of time.” She looks down at it proudly.
“Looks like a sex chair!” I bluntly say, causing her to blush hard.
“I assure you it’s not.”
“Hmm,” I huff.
“Have a seat.” She gestures to the couch.
I look it over before I walk toward the couch and sit down. Just to be a further ass, I slide around and then off the couch.
“Goddamn it!” I express. “You lather this fucking thing up with lube?!”
This doctor freaks out and I’m reveling in my acting skills. I’m on my hands and knees fighting laughter and it’s coming out as grunting.
“Oh, my god! George! Are you okay?” She tries to help me up off the floor.
“Don’t touch me!” I wave her off. I get my ass off the floor so poorly I’m surprised I don’t split my pants, huffing and puffing, trying to get myself situated back on the pretty comfortable couch.
“Do you need me to call 9-1-1?” she offers.
“No!” I state harshly. “Let’s get this shit over with!”
“Okay.” She holds her hands up in surrender and sits back in that awful chair. “Let’s talk about why you are here today.”
“My wife told me I needed to talk to someone because of my attitude.”
She lets off a soft chuckle and starts writing. “Okay, so you’re angry?”
“Did I say I was angry?” I challenge her.
“Your demeanor does,” she challenges back.
Okay, Allison, I see you.
“This is shit.” I cross my arms over my chest like a petulant child. She doesn’t waver in her stance and continues to write stuff down.
“So, why are you here?”
“I already told you my wife wanted me to come. I got your name from a Marine buddy of mine. He said you were okay. Figured happy wife, happy life.”
“That’s nice. Who’s your buddy?” she asks, then holds her hand up to stop me from answering. “Stop, don’t answer that. Must have meant a lot that they referred you. Keep that privacy between you and your buddy.”
