I'm Lost For Words

"Okay, Mr. Owen, take these pills once every day, at noon," I heard Violet say to her patient in her office next door. I hadn't gotten any patients all day, she seemed to be more popular. Oh well.

I sighed and took a sip of my coffee, and took my feet down from my desk. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Violet's patient shuffle by my open office door and thank the front secretary. A fewminutes later, Violet appeared by my desk.

"Hey, Celeste, wanna go for lunch? That was my last afternoon appointment," she said.

"Sounds great," I replied half-heartedly, gathering some paper into a neat pile. Oh, yeah, I failed to mention, I work at a mental hospital. Not the most fun job in the world, but hey, it pays well.

"Doctor Urie, Doctor Dirnt," the secretary nodded at us as we walked past.

"Its Doctor Thompson," I reminded her of my maiden name.

"Oh yes."

I'm married to Mike Dirnt, don't know if you've heard of the band he's in, Green Day. We're going through a divorce, mainly because he's never at home, always touring. At least we never had kids together, it makes the divorce easier.

Violet, on the other hand, is happily married to Brendon Urie. They were high school sweethearts, perfect for each other. They have been married for a few years, and already have one son, Ethan. They seem like the perfect family. I guess Mike just wasn't for me.

We arrived at Taco Bell, interrupting my thoughts.

One cheesy potato burrito and a strawberry Frutista later, we were back at our boring workplace. As Violet headed back to her office, the secretary called me over.

"A patient made a last minute appointment with you, Dr. D- Thompson," she explained. Ah, finally, a patient. "A Mr. Hatch," she continued.

I nodded my head and opene dmy mouth to confirm, but some little alarm in my head made me stop short.

"What might his first name be?" I asked cautiously.

"Bradley."

"OH HELL NO!" I cried in frustration.

"Dr. Thompson, please! There are children in here!"

"I apologize," I stammered, walking back to my office.

"He's already waiting for you in your office," the secretary called back to me.

Facepalm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brad's eyes followed me all the way to the back of the room to my desk. When I walked in, he had been playing with a banana, maybe not in the way you might think.

"BRAD!" I shouted, covering my eyes the moment I seen what he was doing. "That is obscene!"

"WHAT?" he sneered, stopping.

"Don't pretend to jack off that banana!" I cried.

"Well, sheesh, it wasn't that bad," he said, annoyed.

"WELL, I would think it was funny, but this is my workplace. Anyhow." I took out a pencil and my diagnostic book, along with a lined pad of paper. "Why in god's name are you here, Brad?"

"Just as sassy as I remember," he said, now bored. I sighed. "Actually, I'm here as an escape."

I stared at him blankly.

"Celeste, I'm gay," he stated.

"Wow! What a surprise," I smirked. "This is a mental hospital, so why are you here?"

"Well!" he acted offended. "Anyway, do you remember Megan?"

I laughed. Hard. "No way," I giggled.

"SHUT UP! Yeah, we married. See, I told her I was gay, and that I wanted a divorce, but... she's obsessed with me. She said, 'No, you're lying. You are with me, no one else,' and crap like that. I was telling her the truth! I didn't leave out anything! Not even that I wasn't going to work, and instead the gay bar-"

At this point he was cut off by me rolling around on the floor, laughing hysterically.

"STOP!" he yelled, kicking me. I finished my fit of laughter, and got back into my chair.

"Sorry, sorry. But what is it you want me to do for you?" I inquired.

"Listen carefully," he began...