“You need to get yourself a secretary, or a fucking pimp. It takes way too long before you answer the phone,” I said.
“Aha, it’s you. You’re still alive. Good. I assume you being in love didn’t work out. Again. I told you, didn’t I?”
“Define being alive. And be fucking nice. But yes, you were right. How does that make you feel?”
“Poor guy. How can I help you?” she asked.
“You make this sound so clean. I missed you.”
Shrinks eat money
“So what happened?” she asked.
“Are you a fucking shrink now? Well, that would make sense – money wise. So, none of your business. I’m just done with this game called love. It’s like wasting my time on PlayStation. I mean: I don’t like games if I’m not good at them. Especially when reaching the next level seems to take forever. Fuck that shit!”
For some reason I continued: “Besides, you and a cleaning lady would make more sense. And, I kid you not, I made some calculations – as I tend to do, it actually turns out to be a lot cheaper. Not to mention less frustrating.”
Closing the deal
” I guess I could squeeze you in at 11. But I ‘d rather do you last, what do you think?”
“I don’t know. That’s like 5 or 6 in the morning. I’ll be drunk by then. But hell, why not? I guess if you can’t be the first one, you better be the last one.”
“Don’t worry about it. We have time. I don’t work tomorrow. Just… try to control it a little bit, alright? By the way, I enjoyed some of your blog posts.”
“How wonderful. Thanks. This is such a strange country: even prostitutes read.”
“Fuck you man, you know I’m more educated than you will ever be.”
“It’s a fucking joke, lighten up. Something else, I have come up with a new idea. I’m sure you’re gonna love it. But let’s talk about that later. Anything you need?”
“Some of your home cooked food would be nice,” she said.
“Right, I will make you some Flemish stew.”
“I will give you a call when I’m on my way.”