There’s a reason why people become psychologists
Several years ago, I got a phone call from a psychologist I’ll call Dud. He asked me out, reminding me we had met through a mutual friend at a recent theatre performance. I didn’t remember him, my first sign this might be a mistake. Having nothing else to do, I agreed to go to a party at his friend’s house, but due to prior plans, told him I had to be home by 9:30 so I would drive myself.
When he showed up, I realized his forgetability was based on his lack of stature. I am only 5’2″ and I towered over Dud. He was 25 minutes late and did not know the way to his friend’s house. When I took out a map and discovered his friends lived 30 minutes drive away, giving me time to drive there and then return home immediately, he became incensed. I pulled my car back into my carport, went inside, and locked the door.
Two weeks later, a female friend offered to introduce me to a lawyer who was a friend of a friend, cautioning me that he was quite short. After being assured he was not a psychologist, I agreed to let her give him my number. When the phone rang, it was Dud! Until I reminded him of our mutual friend, he had forgotten my name and our abortive date. The conversation, as you might guess, was short.
Time goes by. Still dateless, I signed up for some Internet personals sites. Among the messages I received was a somewhat sarcastic one complaining about the price of sending the e-mail from a guy who proudly proclaimed he was a psychologist. It seemed uncomfortably familiar. I looked up the phone number he provided in the Yellow Pages. You already know the punchline – it was Dud. I did not send a reply.
I’m pleased to report I’ve never seen or heard from him since. There are worse things than being alone and one of them is Dud.