“You don’t have a clue what you’re doing. Do you?” asked my conscience.
“No. Should I?” I responded. “This is my group. Leave me alone. I’ll fake it to make it. Besides, they’re here for my charm, wit, personality, and animal magnetism.”
“I need a break,” said my conscience.
I watched Jill unbuttoning her blouse and stopping just above her navel after J left the room. Personally, I’ve never really cared for plums. I’ll take a plum if it’s all I can get. Before I made that decision, I glanced at the door to the reception area. J left it ajar when she left.. J was listening to every word. “C’mon, Martin, get your head into the game, this could be your last chance to break down J’s love barrier.” I said to myself. I forgot what I was doing here. I had a plan and if slipped away like the morning dew.
My mind works in a funny way. It’s kind of like a butterfly. It flits from one idea to the next, it doesn’t hang around too long with any idea. I like to think I have a lot of interests. A former girlfriend told me I didn’t have depth.
“She’s right,” offered my conscience.
I’ve got to Google how to shut off my conscience. It is becoming a nuisance.
“You’re back? I thought you needed a break.”
“Why don’t you give me a name? I’d like to be on a first name basis with my clients.”
“You’re a conscience for more than one person?” I asked.
“I’ve been given a temporary leave from other ten people while I deal full time with you. I have to breakdown what you thought was your conscience and start new. Work is hell.”
“That’s what I tell everybody. I glad we agree on something. Any ideas on how I should handle class?”
“Try going into your short term memory. Didn’t you tell J and let me quote, “This one’s for you Babe?”
“I did. But I didn’t know what I saying. I was following Uncle Jeffrey’s advice, if it feels right, it is right.”
“I’ve been at this conscience gig for centuries. You’d think I’d know where to begin. I need some professional advice on this one.”
“Good idea. Leave me alone. I’ll wing it.”
“Who were you talking to? We only heard one voice.”
I didn’t realize the conversation I was having with my conscience was loud enough for the group to hear. I remember Mother’s advice as she walked me to my BMW this morning, “Martin always be assertive, it’s a good way to make people think you know what you’re doing when you don’t know what you’re doing. I only tell you this because your Feathering DNA is not pure. You have Sanderstuff DNA as well. Who knows how bad it was tainted by the surrogate mother we used to carry you to termination. She was the best we could do on a short notice.”
I’ve really got to find my surrogate mother. Maybe she was where I got my conscience. I’m sure of it. I’ve not known anyone on either side of the family to show any compassion or passion for that matter. I had to drop the thought, I had five sets of eyes staring at me. I said, “Of course I was having a conversation. I was communicating with the famous psychologist, Carl Jung.”
“Isn’t he dead?” asked Prince.
“He’s only dead if you think he’s dead. That’s why you can’t see him,” I said. Wow. I thought of this on the spot. It is a rare gem. One I can use again and again. “You thought he was dead, so he was dead to you. You all see where I am going?”
I heard the laughter begin in the reception room. J must be watching comic videos on her computer.
“That’s deep, really deep,” said The Sage.
I caught an arm waving out of the corner of my eye. I’m one to answer any question when it comes from Amber. I said, “You must be hot in that outfit.”
“I’m hot, very hot,” said Amber.
“Watch where you are walking girl. You are on a tightrope and you might lose your balance,” said J’s voice from the reception room.
I’m filled with happiness when J protects me because she is practicing bonding. I know she wants to be closer to me than green on money. But, I thought, why not give the girl a little rope and see where she goes. Why not let her express herself and fulfill her carnal desires. Who am I to judge.
J’s voice, “Pull your sweatshirt down or I’ll use it to drag you out of group.”
How does she know this stuff? I don’t know what she’s doing. I know she’s not peeking in here. I didn’t see any hidden cameras. I’ve got to ask her. Maybe she has a sixth or seventh sense. My conscience did say I said, “This one’s for you Babe, so here goes.”
I held my hand to signal the group. I’m not quite sure how the group might interpret my visual sign so I hurriedly said, “Group, I’m tired of listening to your problems. That’s all we done for the past two days. All I hear is blah, blah this and blah blah that. You’re boring. You make me want to fall asleep. There has to be more to life than leading this group, which brings me to my point. Today’s group session is all about me. I’m sucking wind. I’m walking on a tightrope and losing my balance. I standing at the edge of cliff and a gale wind is blowing at my back.”
J’s voice came from the reception area, “Enough with the metaphors. Get on with the stand up comedy.”
“I’ll save you from falling, Doctor Sanderstuff. Can I hold you and press your body to mine?” asked Amber.
This was a fantastic idea. J chimed in before I could respond, “You leave that seat girl, you won’t be able to sit down for a week.”
Amber turned her head toward the door and stuck her tongue out.
“I know what you did, pull your tongue back in your mouth, you’re not auditioning for Dr. Sanderstuff. And, don’t think I don’t know if you flash him.”
J understands how helpless I am. She knows I’d be putty in Amber’s hands. I smiled at the group. I tried to put my thoughts together and then realized I’m in over my head. When I don’t know what I’m doing, I just keep doing it. I said, “I’m in love with the most beautiful, wonderful woman in the entire world. I’ve offered to take her to Paris, Rome, and Vegas. She will have nothing to do with me. I want to take her to finest restaurants, but she doesn’t want to go with me. What should I do?”
“Let her go, Doctor Sanderstuff. “You need a real woman. You need a woman who …”
“One more word Amber and your life is over as you know it,”
Amber folded her arms under her breasts, puffed up and curled her lower lip, and went into a deep pout. J opened the door. She carried a chair into the room and placed it next The Sage. The group and I stared at her. J said, “I want to hear this.”
I sat still for a moment watching the tug of war between my libido giving it everything a libido can give for Amber and my heart, as tiny as it is, fighting with all its might for J.
“Make up your mind, Pancho.”
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I’m a Mexican conscience temporarily substituting for your regular conscience who became burned out working for you. Don’t worry, I have a visa.