One of my early girlfriends, Olivia (amazing legs by the way) said that one of the things she really liked about me when we first got together was the pride I showed in broadcasting to the world that I was in a relationship with her. She expressed surprise and delight at how widespread my announcement that we were together was. I posted repeated and regular updates on Facebook of us together, at different restaurants, on the beach, at dinner parties, holding one another and smiling for all to see. I would tweet about how happy I was as a consequence of being with her and also what a breath of fresh air she was compared to the stale, possessive relationship I had been in previously. I would take her to a dizzying array of drinks receptions (both with friends and with work) and introduce you to all and sundry, positively bursting with pride. I ensured we attended plenty of dinner parties and barbecues where we worked our way around the other guests as I enthused about her wonderful qualities knowing full well that those who were in attendance would post about it on their Facebook pages and talk to other friends and acquaintances. Well we all enjoy the latest gossip don’t we? I changed my ringtone to her favourite pop song and when people commented on the tune I would explain why I had chosen it. I spread the news as far as I possibly could, using every available channel of the dissemination of information, content that once the news was out there, it would continue to spread. Yes, Olivia was utterly swept off her feet by the huge exposure I gave her to this glamorous lifestyle of mine and moreover the repeated and concentrated blasts of heralding our coupling. She adored me for it. Of course, what she had not realised that I was not doing it for her. I was letting Sandy, who I had discarded the week prior, know just how happy I was without her and how she was missing out. That’s what it was all about.
One of the common themes in my sessions with Dr E and Dr O is their need (note not mine) to have me be aware of what I am. Of course I know what I am but as ever I went along with their questioning. Initially this was all about how I regarded myself. I enjoyed this part and I could have gone on for some time. They reported back to me that I consider myself as more intelligent than most people, that I am more amusing, I am more likeable and more successful. I am also more physically attractive than most people. Well, hell yeah ! They then also established that I am obsessed with power (who isn’t if they have any drive and ambition – you don’t become President by sitting there do you?). I am also impulsive. I agree. I am arrogant (I call it confidence but what’s in a word?) and I like to exaggerate my success and abilities. That is true, how else am I going to get people to do what I want.
Things got interesting after that. The sneaky duo had been asking questions of others about how they perceived me. I was fascinated as they told me that their perceptions of me were bang on what I thought about myself. How about that for getting it right? I was rather pleased. Dr O asked,
“Some of those traits could be viewed in a negative light. That is how other people see you. Does that not concern you that they view in a negative manner.”
I shook my head.
“You label it as negative. I regard those traits as strengths and it is clear that other people do as thy have clearly identified them with me.”
She raised her eyebrows (recently plucked I noticed) and remarked,
“What if I told you that those people do regard those traits as negative?”
“If they do then that is jealousy for you. Or I suppose they are too stupid to recognise the brilliance of what I do.”
“Okay, but what if I was to tell you that those people are intelligent and they answered honestly and consistently?” she pressed.
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.
“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.”
“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.”
“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.