Baby liked to run. The only thing that could stop her momentum was ice cream trucks and men. She takes after her owner, except the last time I stopped for an ice cream truck, I was five and riding my tricycle. As far as men go, I've stopped way too many times to share in the introductory paragraph. Let's just say I've tried every flavor of Popsicle available.
My most recent venture was with a Hawaiian boy named Kale. Kale's most prominent feature was his low hanging set of coconuts. We actually dated a few months before having sex. In the past, my relationships have been fuck now - ask on a date later. Last night was our first time together. And as it turns out - Baby wasn't the only person who liked to run. Kale disappeared sometime between one and seven AM when I woke up.
I was really good at doing that woe-is-me thing as I got ready for work. Leaning against my kitchen island, I waited for Baby to return and contemplated men while I ate Cheerio's. It was a pretty intense internal dialogue I was having with myself over cold cereal. I mean, some people go their entire life with just one man - Jesus. And while the life of celibacy was not in my future, I decided to swear off men, anyway and said good morning to the Lord above. No more ass aching in the morning. I would go back to the days where masturbation was all I ever needed. I could even save money by not having to buy condoms anymore.
It sounded like a good plan to me.
I was in the middle of rinsing my dish - and high off of this new no-men venture I took - when Baby returned with a surprise. In the past she's returned with dead rodents, garbage, and twigs. Today she returned with a man. His name was Diggs. And he generally had the ability to scare me. He was like Rambo, if Rambo worked for the CIA. The strong, silent type who had muscles on top of muscles, but that wasn't the scary part. Diggs had the ability to figure stuff out before anyone else. He always was two steps ahead of the crowd. And I'm pretty sure he carried a gun.
Baby came scampering down the front hallway and I bent to pick her up. When I straightened up, Diggs was standing there in his usual black under armor ensemble.
I was used to his antics. "I thought my front door was locked."
"Your Hawaiian boy must have left it unlocked when he scrammed," Diggs voice was smooth as the extra butter I put on everything.
"So what am I doing wrong? You're the expert on men."
He shut the door and followed me to the kitchen.
"Babe," was all he said. Diggs invited himself to some coffee and sipped slowly as he watched me tie my tie, close the clasps on my briefcase, and do the final touches in the foyer mirror. He was a great listener, too. The whole time I complained about Kale and not once did he look disinterested.
"I don't want to sound rude, but can you not be here when I come home from work. It kind of freaks me out."
Diggs smiled and pulled me in close by the tie. His other hand was on the small of my back and I felt like absolute putty. Rue McAllister down the street once called Diggs eyes "devastating." And as I looked into them that morning I knew exactly what she meant. Secretly, I wanted to find Diggs naked on my couch when I came home, but that would never happen. So it's better he just not be here at all.
"Anything for you," and I thought I saw the tiniest smile tug at the corner of his lips. "Unless you wanted to continue your discussion on men. Maybe I could give you some tips."
Oh, boy.
At the age of twenty-nine, I started my own private practice as a counselor in our nation's capitol business district. It's not my ideal job, but it pays the bills. My ideal job is engineering roller coasters and then riding them all day long, but that looks like it may never happen.
I spent close to ten years in school, spent tens of thousands of dollars, only to realize that maybe psychology isn't the subject I'm interested in after all. I mean, it's fascinating to a degree, but to listen to people's problems day in and day out was exhausting. Today, Monday, was no gem, either.
Bunny, formerly known as Regina Watson, was physically battered by her pimps who rented her out on a nightly basis. I have never been much into women, but I could always tell when an attractive one was in the vicinity. I assumed at one point - when Bunny was Regina - she had great natural looks. But in order to keep up with the stripper industry, she had implants and plastic surgery galore. Her vibrant pink lipstick screamed porn. Even so, beneath the fake exterior I could tell that there was a frightened Regina. She trembled, cried, and used up all of my tissues by the end of her one hour session.
Bunny tugged at her mini jean skirt as she left my office. "Thank you, Dr. Palmer. I-I feel m-much better now," she sniffled and gave a watery smile. And as she flaunted out of my office, her breasts bounced, and the man sitting in my waiting room gawked.
I thought it disgusting to an extent the way the newcomer stared at her until she disappeared on the elevator. Somehow I managed to push aside my personal feelings and outstretched a professional handshake.
The man took my hand firmly in his, "Dr. Palmer, so nice to meet you," he said, rising to his feet. He was a head taller than me with strong Italian features. "I'm Detective Harrison," he answered my unasked question. That would also explain his cop-like build and stance.
I was slightly taken aback. I've met with officers of the law before. Policemen, detectives, whoever, certainly have their pitfalls and have come seeking counseling services for a number of reasons, but this time it was different. By first appearances, Harrison was quite stable. Then again, I was never the best at reading people. I invited him into my office and closed the door behind us.
"I hope this isn't an inconvenient time," Harrison somewhat apologized.
"It's only my lunch hour. Please, sit."
"Then I will be out of here in no time. I'm quite sure you're not involved anyway, but I have to exhaust all of my leads."
"Involved? I'm sorry, detective, what's going on here?" I adjusted uncomfortably in my swivel office chair and searched my mind for the last illegal thing I did. Yesterday I parked illegally, but that was for like thirty seconds as I ran in to drop something off at the post office. I once had sex in public, but that was years ago. Hardly warranted to send a detective over to my place. "Involved?" I repeated.
