I have a bit of a deja vu but absolutely true story. Twelve years ago, I looked in my then insurance book and found a T/pdoc in my apartment building, one floor above me. I called, we chatted, I told him I lived in the building, and that I had such bad PMS I wanted to throw myself off the balcony. He replied, "What floor do you live on?" I was like, whaaa? You mean, like can I actually kill myself if I jump? He goes, yeah, or are you on like the 2nd floor and just gonna break a leg? I go, I'M ON THE NINTH FLOOR!!! But yes, that's the moment I knew he was the T for me.

A few years later, my friends and I go see Spalding Gray perform in town, but instead of his usual monologue, he will interview members of the audience. In the lobby, my friend goes, Pick her, pick her! I tell him what a huge fan I am. The show starts, and he does pick me. We start talking about therapy (of course) and this exact question comes up. I had completely forgotten, and I don't know if the T ever knew it, but this story was written practically word for word (except for the PMS part) in one of Spalding's earlier books about how he chose his therapist! So here I am on his stage, telling HIS joke to him like it's mine, all innocent, getting his laughs! He's just LOOKING at me.

A few years later I happened to reread the book the story was in, and boy was my face red. But by then Spalding was dead. Anyway that's our story.