Bizzare Conversation

                                                                           He sat across from  the Pastor                                                           and his wife took a seat nearby, avoiding eye contact .

The silence proved too awkward, so the Pastor spoke.

Pastor: Well, *Joey, why don't you just become a prostitute?

Joey: (swallows, taken aback): I ... I guess I have no desire to become a prostitute.

Pastor: How many women have you chatted with online?

Joey: (Thinking) In the past 12 years? Maybe about a thousand.

Joey's wife hides her face with her hair.

Pastor: Why should she stay married to you?

Joey: She has her own mind.

Pastor: Do you want to stay married?

Joey: Of course. I love her!

Pastor: I don't advocate divorce, but do you see why she has every reason to divorce you?

Joey: That doesn't make breaking up a home with four young boys the right thing to do.

Pastor: I'm trying to retire. I need to reduce my case load. I don't have time for you. I'm sorry for your situation.

(Good thing this session is free ... he couldn't save a marriage if he tried!)

Pastor: You have a gentle attitude, but I'm not sure of your motives.

(A catch phrase? What motives ARE you sure of?)

Pastor: I'll walk you two out.

*Not his real name

Closed door policy

 He stood for a long time at the doorway, waiting.
 Should he go in?
 He shifted his weight, raised his hand deliberately to knock. His hand froze.
 Coward!
 He thought he heard someone inside, and instinctively put his hand back down and took a step back.
 He smiled, waiting for the door to open. He didn't want the "deer in the headlights" look if it did.
 He'd be ready, smiling and agreeable.
 But the door didn't open and his smile soon faded.
 There is was again. He was sure she was inside, listening on the other side of the door. He was glad there wasn't a peep hole. No evidence he was being watched, just a nagging suspicion he was being listened for.
 He cleared his throat, loudly, and tried to make noises to see if the insider would open the door on hearing.
 Nothing.
 He narrowed his eyes, clenched his jaw, and knocked a few short raps before he could talk himself out of it.
 The door remained closed.

  She was hiding, waiting it out, he decided. She didn't want to give him the pleasure of finding her.
 Two could play this game. He leaned against the porch railing. Should he whistle? He wasn't going to fall for this one. In fact, he'd wait a few minutes, then knock again.
 He waited, but only a few seconds. Time ticked by painfully, no matter how nonchalant he wanted to be.
 His hand banged on the door impatiently. How he wanted to see her!
  "I know you're in there," his voice rose. Why did shout that? He was going to play it so cool. Now he was losing his cool, and quickly.
 "Open up, I know you're home!"
 Nothing.
 Only the sound of the telephone ringing inside. Hey, she'd answer it, and give away her position.
 Three rings. Four. Five.
Oh, no, the answering machine. Her voice greeting.
 A male voice coming on. He couldn't distinguish the words.
 Hmm.
 He felt foolish. What if the voice belonged to her new boyfriend? What if he was on his way here and she wanted nothing more than to run out the back door and into his waiting arms?
 He turned to leave.
 No, he would not leave. He had every right to be here.
 She was his wife. This was his house. He had every right to be here.