Mirrors are important to me. Dr E passed me a mirror and asked me to look into it I was happy to oblige. I noticed my lips looked full and inviting, my complexion was clear and my eyes bright. I smoothed down my eyebrows with a finger and adjusted my hair slightly and then again until I was satisfied. I looked a while longer and content I looked great I lowered the mirror. Dr E asked me who I saw when I looked in the mirror. I frowned and told him I see myself. He asked how many mirrors I have at home. I explained there was one in every room and two in the master bedroom and the bathroom. He asked why so many. I said it ensured that I could always check my appearance so I always looked smart and attractive. Plus they make rooms look bigger don’t they?

He invited me to look into the mirror once again. I was happy to oblige. He said, “I want you to keep looking into the mirror until I tell you to stop.” I nodded by way of confirmation and sat with the mirror in my hands as I looked at my reflection. I kept looking and Dr E said nothing. I glanced at him and he instructed me to keep my gaze on the mirror and keep it there. I did as he instructed and continued to look seeing myself staring back at me. The minutes passed and still I continued to look into the mirror and Dr E remained silent. Suddenly, I threw the mirror to one side as I emitted a strangled gasp. It hit the floor and shattered. Dr E did not jump or start.

“Why did you do that?” he asked in his usual measured tone.

“I didn’t like what was looking back at me,” I blurted out before I made for the door.

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Now that we are becoming acquainted I thought it only good manners to say hello and welcome to those of you who have decided to come and read my musings and observations from around the globe. Accordingly, an enthused and warm greeting to those who joined me so far from :-

Canada, UK, Australia, South Africa, Indonesia, Mexico, France, Romania, the Netherlands, Germany, Sweden, Norway, Finland, Spain, Italy, Switzerland, Poland, Gibraltar, India, Austria, United Arab Emirates and a big howdy to the large contingent from the USA. It is a delight to have you here in my world. I am sure we shall get to know one another very well and I very much look forward to your contributions, observations, protestations and condemnations.

One of my ex girlfriends, Kate, was a big animal lover. She was always sponsoring some rare monkey in Africa or baking cakes to raise funds to save the gay whale or such like. People often remarked how fortunate I was to have someone so caring. I would tell them if she spent less time playing Dr Doolittle then maybe I would not have to sleep in the spare room so often. I remember this used to get me some puzzled looks and for an instant I could not understand why but then I worked out they thought I was being mean so I used to tell them the bed was always full of her dogs so there was no room for me. They would smile and nod. Too easy.

Anyway, she got involved in volunteering at an animal shelter which did not impress me and to add insult to injury she expected me to walk and feed her dog whilst she was out being St Francis of Assissi. I kid you not. So on the two evenings when she was helping out I would invite her sister Amanda over. She would feed the dog and I would pretend I had taken it for a walk. (So long as I let it out in the garden and did its business (which I would fling over into next door – I guess that’s why we have new neighbours) Kate thought the hound had been walked. Thus I was able to lure in Amanda. She was low hanging fruit. Ignored by her boyfriend it only took a couple of weeks of texts and declarations of compatibility and I was bedding her each time she came round. Kate would come home and spend most of her time petting her dog but I had someone else to distract me so I let that flagrant failure to give me attention slide a little. Not totally as I still used it to remind her of how neglectful she was of me. I did notice though that she was spending more time and more money on the hound and was obviously doing it to provoke me. Her sister Amanda then started to change. She was initially great fun, vibrant, passionate and interesting but then she got whiny and needy and had the audacity to start criticise my girlfriend Kate. That was not on. She would still call round twice a week, even when I stopped inviting her and I had grown tired of bedding her. I had decided that Kate was the better choice of the two and wanted to focus my attentions on her but she doted on that wretched dog.

Demonstrating the decisive decision making that is my hallmark I took prompt action. On an evening when Amanda had called over I agreed to sleep with her. Before doing so I let pooch out into the garden and opened the gate. I went through the motions with Amanda and then had just returned downstairs when Kate returned. A few moments passed and then she began to call for the dog and with increasing urgency. The hound had gone. I blamed Amanda. Cue sibling fall out. The upshot of it was Kate never spoke to her sister again. Amanda never called round and pestered me and the dog was gone.

Two birds and all that.

Dr O, who is now clearly flirting with me (her skirt was two inches shorter than at the previous session) asked me the following question.

“Your neighbour has bought a new car. It is clearly better and more expensive than yours. How do you feel?”

I frowned as I didn’t understand what she meant but I recalled seeing one of my colleagues react when he said he had bought a new suit and then I showed him the label on mine and told him the price tag. He was angry and another colleague told me that he was jealous. Gotcha Doc O, you want me to feel jealous, but I’m no epsilon semi-moron, so I’m not going to say that. Instead I retorted with.

“That would not happen.”

“Why not?” she asked. I also saw her shift her legs to reveal more thigh. The sly fox.

“He cannot afford a car better than mine.”

“How do you know?”

“He just can’t.His job is not as good as mine.”

“It might be,” she countered.

“It’s not.”

“Okay. Let’s say you are right.”

“I am right.”

She paused and made a note in her hardback note pad. Her pen looks elegant. A fountain pen. Most likely Mont Blanc. She has taste.

“Yes. For the sake of this question, let us assume he can afford a better car than yours.”

“It still would not happen.”

“Why?”

“He has not got the style sense to select anything better than my vehicle.”

“Right. Again, for the sake of the question, assume he has both the money and the er style sense.”

“Okay. It still won’t happen.”

“Why not?” She uncrossed her legs and shifted in her seat. She was getting irritated. I could read her that way.

“I would call every prestige car dealer in the city and ensure they would not sell to him.”

“Really?”

I nodded.

“Okay, but again for the sake of the question and I would be grateful if you would just answer it, assume he buys one from another city or a dealer reneges on your agreement and he purchases a better and more expensive car. How would you feel?”

“It’s still not going to happen.”

“Oh come on, how on earth not?”

“No dealer will dare cross me.”

“And if he goes outside of the city?” She leant forward sensing she might have bettered me now.

“How’s he going to get there when I have firebombed his inferior and less expensive motor vehicle?”

Dr O shook her head, scribbled something in her notepad for a moment and then left the room.

Denial. It gets them every single time.