The Idealist

[You are emerging from a deep, deep slumber, now.]


















[Floating on a cloud of memories, of impressions long repressed.]






















[Right along the surface, now, reemerging to the sound of my voice.]


When I count to three, you will awake—calm, collected, and open. Understand?






Mm, hm.







One … emerging and emerging, calm, collected.







[Two … closer and closer now to the sound of my—]







RRRRIIIIIIINNNNNGGGG!!!











Wh-Wha— What in the—???







RRRRRIIIIII—Fudge! … I forgot to unset the alarm!—IIIIIIINNNNNNGGG!!







Wha— Who— Where?!







RRRRIIII—Click ... Relax, Mr. Jangles. Relax.







Wha— What— Who— Whe—?!







Caaaalm … Colleeeeected …







Who the heck are you?! How do you know my name?!







Mr. Jangles, it’s me, Dr. Ovaltine. Remember? You came to me for counseling?







Counseling? Counseling?! You must be lying … If there’s one thing black men do not do, it’s go to therapy.






I’m afraid you’re the exception to the rule, then, Mr. Jangles.







Must’ve slipped a roofie in my latte … chloroform in my Aqua Velva … Where am I, anyway?


























[A Mexican diner, 10 miles due north of your town of residence …]















Public anonymity often affords clients more discretion than walking into a therapist’s office. Relax—no one knows you’re here.















… That’s what I’m afraid of.



Are you ready to begin?







Begin what?







You came to me because you were having of a bizarre series of dreams.







...







Following a sudden breakup with your former girlfriend.







… I think I’m going to need a drink … Waiter!







I have your relationship history here, the one I asked you to fill out. It is very … colorful.






Yeah, you know, I roll like Skittles: “Taste the Rainbow.”







No pot o’ gold yet, I take it?







Not even a Blarney Stone.







Yes, sir?







House margarita—blended. Salt … Anything for y—?







Water. Ice.







Bueno.








… It also appears that your relationships have a tendency of ending prematurely—and abruptly.






Jeez, did I write my social security and credit card numbers on there too?



















Tell me, Mr. Jangles, do you consider yourself a misogynist?
















N-no … Not at all.



Then you’re a masochist?







Only for the right lady.







But you have a certain distaste for women’s company?







I’m not into guys if that’s what you’re getting at—







I’ve seen all kinds, Mr. Jangles: Men resentful of their overbearing mothers who drop girlfriends the minute they suggest buying a box of Lucky Charms together.





Oh, naw … I get down on Shredded Wheat.







Idealistic young men who think love is essentially "pure," who drive women away with their reluctance to “tarnish” or “complicate” relationships with sex.






Hey, complicate me, tarnish me.







… Your, uh, drinks.
























I am simply trying to figure out, Mr. Jangles … Which one are you?







Look, I love my mother. I’m mature, experienced, completely open with every woman I date. In fact, I go above and beyond to—






Ah, so … the idealist.







I’m sorry?







You enter relationships with a predetermined set of expectations—rules.







Doesn’t everyone?







And you lay them all out at the start—complete equity between partners, complete accountability.






Of course.







And as soon as there’s the first infraction—which, invariably, occurs on the part of the woman—you flip out.






I wouldn’t say—



















Yes, you’re the touchy type, aren’t you? Very protective of your boundaries. Self-righteous in some regards, especially with personal issues—like race, I’d venture.















I—



Even more self-righteous in terms of holding up your self-defined end of a relationship, and more self-righteous, still, in terms of your partner upholding hers.





...







Does any of this ring true?







Yeah, maybe.







Listen, Beau. You’ve paid me to help you work through your issues; in turn, I expect nothing less from you than the absolute truth.






I’ve paid you??







More importantly, the only way you’re ever going to get to the bottom of your issues is if you’re completely honest with yourself.


















Ergo, my original question: Beau, are you a misogynist?















… No more than other guys … to no more of an extent than some women hate men.



So that’s a yes. Second question: Why do you hate women?







I guess it’s like you said, they won’t play by my rules.







And third: Who is willing, Beau, to play by your rules?







...















...







No one, I guess. Just me.















Sob sob sob sob sob sob sob







This is the beginning ...







sob … sniffle …. sob … sniff sniff …







I apologize. sniff ... I don’t know what came over—sniffle …







But, seriously, how much did I pay you?







Now … tell me about these dreams.