This story is about Wayne, a factory welder, who feels he is suffering from depression. Wayne l visits a traditional psychiatrist/ psychologist. But, quickly dismisses the 'think positive' and medication route as utter bullshit. In fact, going to th...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Wayne screaming inside his head “you can't take out the trash? But you can somehow make it to the fucking mall and bring in tons of clothes you buy with my credit card...somehow the baby isn't an issue in that situation”. While it's true he would never hit a woman… throwing trash with the force of a major league baseball pitcher at a dumpster was well within the spectrum of acceptable behavior. Launching trash at the dumpsters watching the debris fly pretending it's her blood and brain matter splatter over the pavement and dumpster was a great stress relief. Tossing the wings into the dumpsters and then the wing sauce splatter everywhere he could picture her skull fracturing into tiny pieces and the beautiful blood stains her brains would paint. The chicken wing bones added to the illusion of this. Clenching his fist he took a deep sigh and proceeded to walk back inside.
“O.W.E BOI!” An unfamiliar voice shouted. Wayne turned around and saw something moving beneath the garbage. “Chicken wings! Hell yeah, it's a good day!” then Wayne noticed him rummaging through the trash. He looked so happy gathering the scattered chicken bones on the ground. Completely perplexed Wayne nervously asks “you aren't going to eat that are you?”
“Why do you care?” the voice retorted “you don't want them”. “It's trash” exclaimed Wayne with confusion “containing bacteria! What if you get sick? Who knows what else could contaminate it!”.
“Listen man I know what I'm doing, besides you put your dinner in MY house!” Confused he says “that's your house, it's a dumpster with all sorts of filth and trash, why would you live there? Are you homeless? You look pretty clean for living in a dumpster.”
Turning his head to the side he squinted his eyes and said “why would I live here? Because it provides everything I need. It's a good place for shelter and people like you even bring me food. You call it refuse but for me it's food. Plus the best part is it's all free. How much do you pay for that place? $1000 plus a month I bet? Fucking clown. I live in virtually the same area for free. How am I clean? Ummm, I bathe myself. What... wait...why, are you so dirty you have a washer, shower, and dryer? So strange right.”
“But what about all your possessions?” Wayne asked “How can you own anything? Don’t you need a car or at least a bike to get around.
He laughed and said “the more you own, the more you are owned. And I don't own a single thing! Hell, I found these clothes in my home, someone brought them to me and it's free.
“So you are homeless, jobless, And asking for handouts? How are you ok with that?” Wayne asked.
“Homeless? Everyone is homeless. It's theoretically impossible to own a home. Miss a payment and they will kick you out. Family and all, the bank doesn't give a fuck. Plus taxes on top of that forever. That apartment across the street isn't a home, it's an apartment. They are two fundamentally different things...for fucks sake they are even two different words I don't understand how people constantly mix them up.
Technically, they are homeless as well. Since they don't live in houses.
I don't ask for handouts! People just give me stuff or throw it into my dumpster which is where I live. Best part is that it's all free! Jobless. I never said I'm jobless. Did I ever say that?” Very confused Wayne slowly asked “wait you have a job, what do you do? It must not pay good since you live in the dumpster.”
He smiled and said “what's with people and this money shit? It's really not that great. You probably assume that I'm uneducated as well because I live in a “dumpster” well motherfucker let me tell you something I'm actually a dual P.H.D clinical psychologist and psychiatrist from Kosakoff University... I made 6 figures a year. Had stocks, 401k, retirement plan, tenure, I even had my own practice with dozens of patients!"
Wayne laughing “I don't know what you are on but can I get $100 worth. Anything is better than what my current situation is. I want to be on your level”
Dr. Roscoe's smile grew even wider and pulled out his DEA license and official Dr license. Repeats all the information on it word for word. “Any crackhead can remember a couple lines on a card,” Wayne said. Dr. Roscoe's smile grew even wider bordering on psychotic; he then stated “ok ask me any question about psychology or psychiatric medicine and I'll answer it”. Wayne laughed and said “my therapist charges $200 an hour with my insurance, if I want to know anything I'll ask him” Dr. Roscoe's smile transformed... into a psychotic smile.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
