Troubles and Treats (10 page)

In the chaos of screams, coughs and crying, I blindly reach into my back pocket and
pull out my cell phone, pressing the button on the side of it for the voice command
thingy since I can’t see to dial.

“CALL DREW!  FUCKING HELL, CALL AN AMBULANCE!”

“Did you say, call Claire?”

“NO!  CLAIRE IS RIGHT HERE, YOU IDIOT!  I SAID CALL DREW!  HELP!”

“Did you say browse the web?”

“YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE A SMART PHONE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

“Did you say send a message?”

“NO, ASSHOLE!  WAIT, YES!  YES, YES, YES!  SEND A MESSAGE TO DREW!  TELL HIM WE’VE
BEEN ATTACKED AND WE’RE DYING.  TELL HIM WE NEED THE POLICE, A DOCTOR, AND HANDCUFFS!”

“Sending message to, Doctor Madison.

I throw the phone away from me and curl up in the fetal position in the grass, not
even caring that I just sent a message to the new marriage counselor I had scheduled
an appointment with for Drew and me.  She has Drew’s phone number in her records so
maybe she’ll get the text and call him.

I still hear shouts and crying all around me and squint open my eyes as best I can. 
The tears are pouring down my face and what I see is blurry, but it looks like Liz
now has Claire in a headlock and the stalker is on all fours puking in the bush.

“OH MY GOD, MY EYES!!!” the guy shouts.

And just like that, I know exactly who my stalker is.  Just a few years ago he had
yelled the exact same thing when he walked into our living room and saw Drew doing
a handstand against the wall next to the couch while I gave him a blow job.

With squinty eyes, I push myself up onto my hands and knees and crawl over to the
figure still heaving in the shrubs.

“Dad?  Is that you?” I ask.

“I am an absolute disgrace!  What is your major malfunction, numb nuts?  You let a
bunch of namby-pamby girls take you down.  I ought to take a giant shit on you!” he
mumbles to himself between coughs and dry heaves.

Yep, that’s my father-in-law.  Leave it to him to quote
Full Metal Jacket
at a time like this.  As soon as I can feel my face again and see out of my eyes,
he’s going to explain this whole mess to me.

“1-2-3-4 I LOVE THE MARINE CORPS!”

Well, maybe after the mace is gone from his system.  I think it’s affecting him worse
than it is us girls.

“SON OF A BITCH, LIZ!  Will you let go of my hair?  It was an accident,” Claire yells
from behind me.  “And I can hear you calling me a dumb fuck whore.  I may be blind
but I can still hear!”

“Then hear this, you dumb fuck whore!  Sleep with one eye open.  When I can see again,
I will straight up shank you with a whittled down stiletto,” Liz threatens with her
eyes squeezed shut as she crazily swings her arms around trying to reach Claire, who
managed to escape from her clutches, drop to the ground, and crawl away.

Alright, so maybe everyone has ingested a bit too much mace
.

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

I wince at the sound of Jenny’s screech as she throws the cold, wet towel off of her
eyes and glares at me.

I can’t help it. I laugh.  She looks like she has hickies all around her eyes.  They
are puffy and red and right now it’s really hard to look right at her.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

Shit.

I actually do feel really bad that she was maced.  She looks like hell and I’m sure
it doesn’t feel that great. 

When I had got a phone call from some person named Doctor Madison telling me she received
a text from my wife saying, “I pooped on the police and killed an ambulance.  Bring
handcuffs,” I was a little confused, albeit intrigued.  Who was I to judge my wife’s
kinkiness?  I called Jenny right away and could only hear screaming and crying in
the background and something about her eyes melting.  When I got to the scene, my
father was curled up in the fetal position in the parking lot where he crawled as
far away from the girls as he could.  He made me promise that I would keep Liz at
least ten to twenty feet away from him at all times because she threatened to dig
out his eyes with her
belt buckle
and he really thought she’d do it.

After getting my dad, Liz, and Claire home, I admitted to Jenny in the car about hiring
my dad to follow her.  I had figured it was safer that way.  She wouldn’t kill me
while she was half blind and I was driving.  She had ignored me the rest of the way
home. 

Now we are here, and she is only a few feet away from a kitchen full of sharp objects.

“You’re telling me, you thought I was FAKING A WORK INJURY and you had your dad follow
me?  I thought I had some crazy stalker tailing me all day and he was going to induct
me.”

Yep, full on laughing right now.  There’s no hope for me.  I’ve already accepted my
fate of sleeping on the couch for the rest of eternity.

“Was this stalker going to
induct
you into the Stupid Crime Stoppers Hall of Fame?”

Jenny grabs the wet towel from the couch and re-covers her eyes, resting her head
on the back of the couch.

“I can’t even look at you right now I’m so angry.  Why in the hell would you think
I was faking an injury and trying to cheat Claire out of money?  And your father? 
Really?  You actually hired your insane father to follow me around?  Did you see what
he was wearing?  Full on camouflage, a hat with branches glued to the top of it, and
leaves painted all over his face.  That is not normal, Drew.”

Would now be a bad time to point out that all three women were dressed as slutty burglars?

I shrug even though she can’t see me.  “What can I say, he really gets into his work. 
And he said to tell you he was sorry.”

She doesn’t say a word.  She just keeps her head on the back of the couch and the
towel over her eyes.  I feel like I'm in the principal’s office, standing in front
of her desk waiting for my punishment like that one time in high school when I put
a little black skirt over the figure on the boy’s bathroom door in an attempt to get
some hot chicks to walk in on guys pissing.  Instead, the principal had walked in
on a Freshman whacking off during fourth period.  The principal had ignored me for
an hour before she finally gave me my punishment.  I don’t want to stand here for
an hour.  The kids are asleep and
Tosh.0
is coming on soon.

“Um, are we done here?” I ask.

“Did you seriously just say that to me?!” Jenny screeches.

How is it possible for women to hit decibels with their voices that even dogs can’t
hear?

“Yes, we’re done here.  You can explain your stupidity to Doctor Madison tomorrow
when we go for marriage counseling.”

I’m sorry, what?

~

“So, Drew, tell me why you think you’re here?”

I stare at the woman sitting across from us wearing a long flowing skirt, Birkenstocks,
and yellow tinted glasses.  The smell of incense is so strong in here I think I’m
going to be sick, and the soft sounds of Simon and Garfunkel coming from her radio
in the corner makes me want to take a nap.

“I have no idea what the hell I’m doing here aside from having a bad '60s flashback,”
I mutter.

Jenny smacks my arm and I let out a big sigh.

“Oh it’s okay, Jenny.  This is a room of honesty.  Your husband is free to express
whatever is in his heart and mind when he’s in this room without fear of judgment. 
I’ll make this a little easier on you since it’s your first time here.  Jenny has
explained to me over the phone that the two of you are having some communication issues. 
Is that correct?” she asks.

“Um, sure.  I guess,” I say with a shrug.

I don’t know this woman, and I’m sure as hell not going to tell her the only communication
problem my wife and I have right now is that her vagina doesn’t want to speak to my
dick.  Hippy chick here will look right at my penis and wonder what’s wrong with me. 
This stranger is going to think I have a third ball or my penis is shaped like a horseshoe.

“My penis is fine!” I shout.

Might as well put that out there before she gets any funny ideas.  She doesn’t even
bat an eye at my outburst, just folds her hand in her lap and smiles at me.

“You have a real connection with your penis, is that correct?”

Is this really happening right now?

“Um, well, it IS connected to my body, so yes.  I’m sort of connected to it.”

She just smiles at me again and then points to my shirt.  “I was referring to your
shirt.”

I glance down and realize I’m wearing one that says
:
I puffy heart
my penis.  Let me show you why.

“I think I can sense what the root of the problem is here.  You two just had a baby
not that long ago.  Sometimes it’s difficult for couples to connect again after something
this life altering happens.  What we need to do is get you two to connect.”

Okay, I take it back.  This woman might be a genius.  If she can get my wife to connect
with me at the pelvis, I will buy myself a pair of Birkenstocks and sit under a black
light with her, smoking pot.

“Jenny, I’d like you to do something for me.  Turn your body on the couch so that
you are facing your husband.”

Jenny does as she’s told, pulling her legs up onto the couch and sitting Indian style.

“Okay, now, Jenny, I want you to look down at your husband’s penis and tell it you
love it.”

Jenny hesitates and looks at Dr. Madison questioningly.

Do not question the good doctor!  Do as she says!

“It’s alright, Jenny.  This will be good for both of you.  Talk to the penis.”

Jenny slowly turns back to me and stares right down at my lap.

“Um, I love you.”

“Very good, Jenny!  Now, I want you to apologize to the penis for taking it for granted,”
Dr. Madison explains kindly.

I wonder if she’ll tell Jenny to suck the penis next.  And if so, should I ask the
good doctor to leave or stay?

“Uh, I’m sorry for taking you for granted,” Jenny says while still staring at my lap.

“Excellent!  Okay, Drew, now it’s your turn,” Dr. Madison states.

I don’t even hesitate.  “I love you penis!  You are the best guy ever!  No, seriously. 
You never let me down, you’re always up when I need you to be, and I apologize for
some of those issues we had back in college that required antibiotics,” I say to my
penis.

I look up at Dr. Madison, quite proud of myself for being such a team player with
this whole therapy nonsense.

“That was very nice, Drew.  But what I really wanted you to do was talk to Jenny’s
vagina,” she explains.

Well alrighty then.

Figuring I might as well be comfortable for this, I curl up on the couch and rest
my head on Jenny’s thigh.  “I love you too, vagina.  I miss you like a hooker misses
her virginity.  True story.  Why have you done me wrong, Boo?  Why is there such a
distance between us?  Remember when we used to hang out every day?  Now I barely see
you once a month.  You’ve changed, vagina.  I hate to say this, but you have.  You’re
a different person now, and it’s like I don’t even know you.  I thought maybe you
were hanging around with a different crowd of people and they influenced you against
me.  Maybe we’re just growing apart.  I don’t want to lose you, vagina!  I need you
like I need air to breathe and football on Sundays.  I just can’t quit you, vagina!”

I realize when I finish that the room is eerily quiet.  I lift my head from Jenny’s
leg and see both women staring at me with their mouth’s open.  Okay, so I had cried
a little.  Sue me.  This is emotional shit.  This doctor is getting to the heart of
all of our problems.  My penis and Jenny’s vagina.

“Um, that was…uh, unexpected,” Dr. Madison states.

I sit up fully on the couch and grab a Kleenex from the side table and blow my nose.

“Wow, that felt really good,” I say, rolling my shoulders and stretching my neck from
side to side.  “It feels like a weight has been lifted.  My mind is clear and I feel
so free.  What should we do next?”

Dr. Madison looks down at the notepad in her lap and flips a few pages.  “Well, I
think you have made some great progress, Drew.  We just need to get Jenny where you
are.  Jenny, when was the last time you hugged your womb?”

“Hugged my room?  I don’t get it,” Jenny says, confused.

“No, your
womb
.  The place where you gave life to your two children,” Dr. Madison explains.

“Uh, can I do that here?  Shouldn’t that be done in a real doctor’s office with a
table and stirrups?  I don’t think I can reach it otherwise.  Unless you have a mirror
and maybe a flashlight.”

“If I can reach your G-spot in the middle of the woods with a tube of watermelon Bonne
Belle Chap Stick while it’s raining and there is a homeless guy in a tent four feet
away singing the Sesame Street theme song, then you can hug your womb,” I tell her
encouragingly.

I probably shouldn’t have brought that up because now I’m distracted and can only
think about the one time we went camping and got lost in the woods.

And now I have a hard on.

“Actually, I don’t mean you actually need to…um, reach up and touch your literal womb,”
Dr. Madison explains.

“Why is she talking about littering?  Is she saying my womb is dirty?” Jenny whispers
to me.

“What I need you to do, Jenny, is just cradle your arms around your lower stomach
area.  Hold your womb in your arms and give it comfort.  Let it know you care.”

Okay, now this chick is talking crazy.

“And while you’re at it, try soothing your ovaries and give them some encouragement
to open themselves back up and accept the love that is given.  I believe the problem
here is that your womanhood has closed itself off and no longer recognizes love.”

Bat shit crazy.  Talking to my penis and Jenny’s vagina is normal.  This is one step
away from taking all of our clothes off and dancing and chanting around a sacrificed
pig.

My awesome wife does as she’s told though and wraps her arms around her waist.  She
gently rocks from side to side and begins talking to her “womanhood” like it’s Billy.

“Such good little ovaries.  Yes you are!”

I want off this crazy train.  Right the fuck now!

Watching my wife rock-a-bye her ovaries makes me wonder what she initially thought
we would get out of this counseling session.  I had thought it would be a bunch of
arguing and pointing fingers about whose fault it is that we aren’t having sex anymore. 
Maybe she doesn’t think that’s the problem.  Shit, maybe that
isn’t
the problem.  Maybe it’s just
my
problem.  She’s not faking a work injury, she’s not cheating on me…what the hell
else could it be?  A few years ago she cut me off from sex for a week because I gave
her a Dutch Oven in bed one night.  While hilarious, it’s never a good idea when your
wife is naked
and getting ready to mount you.

There had been another time when I gave her a Wet Willy when she started coming. 
I hadn't meant for that to be hilarious. I read about it in Cosmo.  When she had locked
me out of the bedroom, I grabbed the magazine and realized two of the pages were stuck
together - sex tips and practical jokes.  Well played, Cosmo.  Well played.

We leave the cuckoo doctor’s office with a promise to keep communicating with our
reproductive organs.  Unfortunately, I still have no fucking clue how that’s supposed
to help get me laid.