Holy Water and Vodka. iLets talk about the girls, Gregory Neustadter said. "Id like to start at the very beginning.Holy Water and Vodka. i9 years ago in Transgressive More Like This
It wasnt an office with a chair and a couch and warm mahogany furnishings, but it would do. There was no bowl of courtesy mints on the table, and certainly no steaming cup of Earl Grey, but that could be easily justified. There was a fluorescent light and two chairs to be occupied; there was a steel door and no windows, to maintain privacy. The room had enough square footage on it so as not to induce claustrophobia, but was compact enough that the door was within a couple meters reach, if escape was necessary. There was a client seated at the other end of the table, a client bound in chains, and for what was withheld within those chains that was what truly mattered.
You doctors and your chronology, the client said, and this was not the first smirk Neustadter had seen snake across the mans face. He enjoyed not the cha
Holy Water and Vodka. ii"You know, the decreasing literacy rate in Americans these days is not particularly inspiring."Holy Water and Vodka. ii9 years ago in Transgressive More Like This
He stops, frozen for a moment but not really, and turns back around. His black eyes reflect nothing. "The fuck are you talking about, amigo?" he says. "Who said anything about... decreasing literacy?" And he hits the catch on the steel Zippo and watches as it ignites again. I'm just surprised at how smoothly he pronounced 'decreasing literacy'.
I say, "Well, I can't think of any other reason why you'd be smoking in here," and kindly directing his attention to the sign on the wall, the universal one with the smouldering cigarette behind a thick red bar with 'Thank You for Not Smoking' written beneath it, I tell him, "Five-hundred-dollar violators' fee, Komerad." As if he doesn't already know.
The next exhaled puff of smoke is directed right in my face. The bully.
He says, "You're one to fucking care."
"Hey," and I'm leaning with my side pressed into the bars, one ar
Holy Water and Vodka. iv"What," I say. "What, were you expecting a little more of a reaction, is that it? Were you expecting me to break down for you?" I say, "Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart, but I'm not that kinda guy." And here's the part where I walk out – or rather, I would, if only I wasn't surrounded on all four sides by bars and brick. I've been shaking the bars most of the day, trying to find the magical loose escape bar, but I guess that's only in the movies. Quel dommage.Holy Water and Vodka. iv9 years ago in Transgressive More Like This
"No," she says. She says, "I wasn't... I wasn't expecting anything from you. Actually."
In my head, I keep seeing her shaking her head, just turning on her heels and walking out on me – but every time I think she's going to act on it, she stays put. Maybe she likes to pretend she's in a cage too. I wouldn't be surprised.
"Well then why are you here, huh? Why are you telling this to me, of all people?"
"You guess what?" I almost-shout. You don't have to worry about using your inside voice when you'r
Holy Water and Vodka. v"So," Neustadter said, "what's my question supposed to be?"Holy Water and Vodka. v9 years ago in Transgressive More Like This
The bottle of Zodiac was propped up on his side of the table, full save for the small portion of the neck that had already been consumed. Neustadter was fully prepared to sacrifice the entire bottle for information; he had a distinct hunch that his client wasn't a featherweight when it came to alcohol.
Colburn stared ahead dully, rolled his head to the side like he was stretching, and said, "Well, Doc," he said, "it wouldn't be a fair quid pro quo situation if I told you. Fair for you, I mean. I mean, I don't know what you'd want to hear."
Neustadter wanted to say something along the lines of, 'At this rate, I'd be fine with anything, coming from you,' but he knew that that would imply desperation, and he knew also that a desperate man should do anything but admit to his despair.
He said, "But you do know what I want."
"Only, you want me to have the background to back it up... so I understand," he said, quiet
PS: A Question of Motivation FADE IN:PS: A Question of Motivation6 years ago in Drama More Like This
INT. PSYCHIATRIST'S OFFICE - DAY
A clock with roman numerals TICKS. A chair CREAKS.
The faintest of grins pulls back on a scruffy man's face. This is DREW (30s). His leg bounces as he nervously looks at ROBERTA (30s), seated across from him. She also watches him, but she's still. Wary. Terrified.
Is something wrong? You're awfully quiet today.
For a second, it isn't clear if Roberta's going to laugh or cry. Instead, she just stifles a cough.
We'll never get to the heart of the problem if you don't talk to me.
I'm fine. Just...fine.
Fine? That isn't very definitive.
Fine, as in, super peachy. Doc.
Well, how's your week been?
She shakes her head, exhaling, processing.
Been sleeping all right?
She doesn't respond.
I take that as a "no". Stress getting to you?
Looks up at him.
Maybe a little.