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Still a Counselor:
A few weeks ago, I wrote about my attempt to get into the counseling
racket. After the first experience, I changed my mind and let
my ad run out without renewing it. When I let my ad run out, I
thought I was out of the business, but I keep getting calls. What's
a person to do?
I suppose I'll just have to get used to dealing with people who
are stranger than me. I have decided that people that strange
should pay big bucks to get me to put up with them. The amount
of money these people are willing to spend is amazing. They don't
seem to understand that they could get as much from a bartender
for the price of a few beers.
My last client was Mr. Whodatte. He called and begged me to take
him on. the first thing I did was try to dissuade him with my
fee.
"My fees are quite high," I warned him.
"I don't care. Duh money's no good ta me."
I said, "I just have to make sure you know."
"Okay. How much?"
I quickly raised my fee for his benefit. "The first consultation
is $100.00," I told him. "After that, it's "$200.00
per session,"
"Okay," he agreed.
I bit my lip. I should have went higher. I knew I was going to
have to see a guy this weird, so I set up an appointment.
When Whodatte came in, I introduced myself and made him understand
that physical contact was an important part of the counseling
process. I start and end each session with a hug. He agreed to
that. While we were hugging, I gave him a good pat down to make
sure he was not carrying any wires or devices. After I was sure
that the only recorder running was mine, I was ready to go to
work on him.
"Let's start by finding out about your relationship,"
I said.
He looked surprised. "That's why I'm here," he blurted.
"I don't got one."
"But Mr. Whodatte," I said, "I made it very clear
that I do relationship counseling. Didn't you understand that?"
"Sure I understand. Yer gonna help me get a woman."
"Oh!" I said. "Did you think that relationship
counseling is some kind of dating service?'
"Crap no," he said. "I know better'n that. I expect
ya to splain how I can get a woman ta date me."
"You want me to teach you how to approach a woman?"
"Don't you hear good? I don't wanna approach no woman. I
wanna get with a woman. I wanna woman ta get with me."
"Oh!"
"Ya unnerstan now?" he demanded.
"I think so," I said. "You don't have a girlfriend
and you want me to help you to get one."
"Now ya got it," he grinned.
This was not what I had in mind, but at $200.00 an hour, I can
be flexible.
"Okay," I agreed. "Let's get started."
I figured in the worst case, I could use some of his fee to pay
a woman to date him.
"Have you ever had a relationship?" I asked.
"Nope."
"You have never dated a woman?"
"Not a one," he said sadly.
"How old are you Mr. Whodatte?"
"Thirty five."
"And you have never had a female friend?"
"You really don't listen good. What did I say?"
"I heard you Mr. Whodatte. I'm just confirming. Have you
ever tried to date a female?"
"Sure, all-a-time."
"Where?"
"In a bars. Where dey hang out. Where else?"
"You go into a bar and try to date a woman?"
"Dat's where dey hang out."
"To be sure," I said. "How do you do this? What
do you usually say and do?"
"If dey at a bar, I jus sit down an say, ‘Hey, ya wanna
beer or sometin?' I try ta say some kinda complement too."
"What kind of complement would you offer?"
"Oh, I might say, ‘Hey, ya got nice jugs,' or sometin
like dat."
"What usually happens then?"
I had to ask although I could guess the answer.
"Dat's da part I don't unnerstan. Sometime I get whacked.
Sometime dey get real mad. Sometimes dey tell me, ‘Get lost,"
or sometin like dat. Dey never say, ‘Hey tanks."
I was thinking for sure I would have to buy this guy a date. I
sure was not going to have enough time to cure him of stupidity.
My problem was, this guy was good looking enough, but he was very
short on couth. I thought my only hope would be in direct coaching.
"I think it's time for a field trip," I said.
"Huh?"
"I want to see how you act with a woman, first hand."
"Ya wanna go ta a bar?"
"Sure. Let's go where you usually go," I said. "Do
you have enough money for a night on the town?"
"Sure," he replied. "I got about five hunnert."
"That should do," I agreed.
My only regret was that I would have to abstain for the most part.
And him with all that green. A shame.
I explained a simple plan to him. We would go to a bar. He would
select a woman to approach. I would sit down on one side of her
and remain quiet. He would approach her and make his pitch. After
he was rebuffed, I would try to engage the woman and find out
why she rebuffed him. Later, we could critique his technique.
So, I sat at the bar beside this attractive woman. I'm kind of
old and she had no trouble ignoring me.
Mr Whodatte walked up on her other side and she turned to him
with a smile.
He grinned and sat down. "Hi," he said.
"Hi, you too," she smiled.
"Ya wanna beer or somtin," he asked.
"What? You hitten on me?"
"Nah. I just saw ya sittin' here, next ta the old guy, an
I was thinkin' boy she got nice buns. Maybe she'd wanna talk or
somthin'."
"Hey," she snapped. "Watch yer mout."
"Hey. I don' mean nothin'. I jus' like how ya look is all."
He waved at the bartender and pulled out his wallet. She got a
look into it and her eyes got large.
"I don' mean nothin'? he said. "I just wanna buy ya
drink an talk or somethin'."
"Or somthin?" she asked.
"Yeah. Whatever."
"Okay," she said. "Why not. I'll have a seven and
seven."
I could not believe my ears. He was making out with no problem.
He should have flashed his roll to the first woman he hit on.
He would never have needed me. I though about it and it seemed
appropriate. She was about as couth as he. As they left the bar
together, he looked back at me and grinned. I simply shrugged
and smiled. Then I turned to the bartender and ordered myself
a Hieneken.
The next day Mr. Whodatte stopped by and paid me for the first
session and the field trip. He had got with a woman and had a
good time. He had another date with her lined up. He was as happy
as any fool could be. He did not understand, but he believed I
had made it work. I saw no reason to tell him that his fat wallet
had been the crowbar to success.
All's well that ends well, as they say.
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