“Okay,” you reply, doing your best to
maintain a professional demeanor. “We do
have that behavior in common, but perhaps we use it for different
purposes. For example, I take notes so I
can get to know someone and find ways to help them. I think you may take notes as a way to hold
people at a distance.”
Robin shakes his head firmly. “No.
You’re wrong. I also do what I do
to get to know people. Some may find my
behavior creepy, sure.” He looks you
directly in the eye now. “After all, I
can guess where you live and your salary by your clothing choices,
transportation choices, and the kinds of food I smell on you. In fact, I’d argue I can get to know someone
better than you do.”
You’re tempted to test him to see if he
really does have a clue where you live. “I
doubt that. Direct communication allows
. . .”
“It allows for people to lie,” Robin
interrupts. “I, however, can strip away
the lies and see what lurks beneath.”
You shiver.
It’s days like this that make you wonder why you became a therapist in
the first place.
I wouldn't want a patient like that.
ReplyDeleteThese 'choose your own adventure' ones are awesome, LG.