Client 2: Mary

“Ooooh, a lady. This doesn’t happen very often. What’s your name, honey?”
“Don’t call me honey, please, and the name’s Mary.”
“Is that your real name?”
“Does it matter? What’s yours?”
“Candy Cane.”
“Okay…Candy Cane, I just wanna talk. No big deal.”
“No big deal at all. What’s on your mind, sugar?”
“Don’t call me sugar either. Do you hate your job, Candy Cane?”
“It has its moments.”
“And when those moments are no more?”
“They’re few and far between but I make the best of it.”
“What do you look like?”
“What do you want me to look like?”
“I see. So the men who call- I assume it’s only men that call- get to imagine you as their perfect woman. You’re here selling a fantasy, after all.”
“And what are your fantasies, Mary?”
“I once liked men. God, that seems so long ago.”
“And now you play for the other team.”
“To put it simply.”
“I bet you drive all the girls wild. You sound like a real looker.”
“I’m not much to look at. I’m thirty pounds overweight, I’ve had an overbite since grammar school, and my tits never met gravity. Still…”
“That’s never stopped you before.”
“You seem like a woman who’s got stuff figured out.”
“I used to. Least I think I did. See, my dad’s in town. He doesn’t approve of my current lifestyle. But all I wanna do is tell him it’s because of him that I chose it.”
“Your father-”
“When I was ten up until fourteen. I’ve wanted to confront him. Talking to my parents shouldn’t scare me, I’m almost thirty. I have no trouble crying to counselors, a couple ex-girlfriends, and now you. But I can’t seem to talk to the one person I need so desperately to.”
“Confronting your assailant isn’t easy but I’m sure all those groups already told you that.”
“Yea, they have. Drilled it into my head. Told me I’ll never truly be free until I do this.”
“Do you believe that?”
“I want to kill him. That’s all I’ve believed in for so long.”
“Do you need me to talk you out of it?”
“No, I need you to tell me that it’s okay. That I should. You’re a woman I’m sure you understand.”
“I’ve never been a victim so I-”
“C’mon Candy Cane, I’m sure at some point in your life you’ve felt the fear. Seen the glare in a man’s eye, that frightful glint that tells you to run but your legs suddenly feel like Jell-O. I don’t hate all men but all men don’t realize this will eventually become what at least one woman will feel when she looks at him because, at some point, that little voice talking to their egos will soothe the bruise and turn them into what we know is inevitable.”
“Turn them into what?”
“The animals they’re trying so hard not to become.”
“It sounds like you’ve got your mind all made up then, Mary.”
“Yea. I guess I do.”
“I’ve never felt that fear you described, but, I understand what you meant.”
“Is that part of your job description- empathy?”
“Only when it’s necessary and true.”
“Goodbye Candy Cane.”
“Be safe Mary.”


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