nautideux

Dr. Sherman was funny in a way and would go off on these crazy tangents. During group he would go off on these tangents that would be funny and all and even a little creepy. A lot creepy actually. He wasnt trying to be funny or anything, not in the least bit, but his tangents were certainly funny and weird and creeped me out in a way. Everyday he would sashay in, in some burgundy suit with little gray tassel loafers or some fussy sweater and linen slacks or something and constantly adjust or play with his bracelet or ring or fancy pen he had. But that wasnt it. That wasnt what was funny or strange or even creepy about him. What was honestly pretty weird, was the way he described his patients to us when he was giving an example using his own practice that I guess he had after group or on the weekends. He would counsel people and analyze them and stuff and in certain cases, he would share the experiences he had with them, with the group. Which was fine. That was totally fine. But the trouble started and he got real creepy when he would describe the patients. They always seemed to be teenage boys or young men. Thats all who seemed to go to him for advice or to be analyzed or helped in some way. Never housewives or old men or truck drivers or anything. Never. It was always young men. Thats all he would use as examples anyway. And when giving the specifics of the case, he got even creepier. He would start with something like, John, a seventeen year-old male, which was fine but then continue with, with a nice build and big broad shoulders and nicely proportioned tan legs. And that wasnt it. He would keep going on with it. Sandy blonde, shaggy hair, kind of tussled, with great skin and a deep golden tan, obviously very athletic and muscular, a nice dresser with snug-fitting pants and a tight fitted shirt. He would keep going on and on. And the really funny thing was, the thing that I found totally completely strange and funny and all, was that no one in the group, not one soul, seemed to think that it was, in even the slightest way, creepy. If they did, they damn sure didnt show it, because for the most part, everyone just sat there and kept right on listening. About young, well-built Evans cologne or the after-shave he used or about his socks or wrists or biceps or something. No one reacted in any way. Except this girl in the back row. One time, after two weeks of sexy little sordid descriptions of young men and the way he would flit around in front of the group and play with his bracelet and fancy pen, I couldnt help but to look around and see if anyone else was as creeped out as I was. And as I sort of glanced over to that girl who was the only other person in back, anywhere near me, besides my friend JAX, our eyes met and we exchanged looks that could only have meant, What the fuck is going on here? The way we looked at each other and by our expressions, I knew we were thinking the exact same thing. What the fuck is going on with this guy? And you know what? I was honestly pretty relieved in a way that I wasnt the only one who was completely creeped out by ol Dr. Sherman. I really breathed a sigh of relief when I looked over and she gave me that look and kind of laughed a little afterwards. He was going on about Seth, a 21 year-old white male who came in wearing a little tight tank top that really highlighted and emphasized his rock-hard chest and upper arms and I just about had had enough and was really ready to crawl out of my fucking skin and couldnt stand one more second of him skipping and prancing around in his little gray tassel loafers, when I looked over and thankfully saw someone else as distressed and as wierded out as I was. I was honestly pretty relieved.