“Yeah, I’ve been seeing those things and wondering what they were for,” Shay said.
“Well, I went inside of one.” Clarice grinned.
Quisha gasped. “Shut up! Really?”
“Yeah, and it was quite interesting.”
“So, what is it?” Irish inquired.
Clarice turned her client’s chair so that she could face them. “Alright, so I go inside and there’s a small bench with a telephone on the wall. The instructions say pick up the receiver, so I did.”
“And?” Shay asked impatiently.
“Girl, calm down. I’m getting there.” Clarice rolled her eyes. “So, I pick up and there’s this woman on the line that says, ‘Hello.’ I repeat it, and she ask me what I need help with. I ask what it is, and she explained that this is a booth to help people who are in need of counseling. Ever since that one lady drowned in the ocean, they’ve been trying to make sure people who are in distress or having suicidal thoughts have an outlet.”
“Wow, I think that’s really cool,” Irish noted. “I hate it took a woman’s death for them to do this but I’m happy it exists.”
“Right, me too. So, I proceeded to ask if I should get back with my baby daddy—”
“Girl,” Rozalin interrupted. “I know you ain’t waste that lady’s time asking that bullshit.”
Shay cackled as her head fell back. “Roz, why would you expect her to ask anything other than that? You know she’s obsessed with that no-good nigga.”
“Oh, bitch please. Like you wouldn’t jump at the chance to get back with yours,” Clarice rebutted.
“I wouldn’t.” Shay stuck her tongue out.
“Back to what I was saying before I was rudely cut off. So, I asked her if she thinks I should get back with him, and she then asked why I was leaning toward it. I told her that I still love him, and she asked why. Y’all the only thing I could come up with is that we share a child and have history. I felt kind of stupid ‘cause there need to be more to it, right? Well, she then asked about my family history and y’all.” She paused. “This lady told me that I like familiarity and that’s the only reason I wanted to get back with my baby daddy.”
Irish pursed her lips in doubt. “So, she said all that in one session? That’s hard to believe.”
“Why?” Clarice questioned.
“Because it usually takes counselors multiple sessions to break someone down like that.”
“Not always,” Quisha added. “By the second session with my therapist, she had already figured out my issues.”
“Plus, I talked to her ass for over two hours. You act like I was this complicated case. I got daddy issues. Hell, the diagnosis is pretty universal if I do say so myself.” Clarice popped her lips.
“Two hours?” Rozalin quipped. “Bitch, you need a friend.”
“Fuck you!” Clarice laughed.
“So, you trust it?” Shay asked skeptically. “What if it’s AI?”
“Shay, please,” Rozalin cut in. “You be talking to ChatGTP like it’s your home girl.”
“It’s ChatGPT, you old heffa,” Shay corrected.
Irish chuckled as Rozalin flipped her a middle finger.
“I don’t care if the bitch real or not. She made me realize some shit and now I’m about to be more aware of how I deal with my BD.”
Irish and Rozalin shared a look through the mirror before snickering.
“And y’all can laugh all y’all want because I know y’all got some shit too. Rozalin, you ain’t had a man since Obama was in office and Irish, yo’ husband ain’t all that faithful.”
“And I’m happy being single, hoe!” Rozalin fired back.
