In Session (14) - Back Story
If he needed a degree he’d steal it off a rival's wall
“Okay, boss, it’s time to rock and roll.”
The Layman looked down at the other man from the mountain on which his head uncertainly rested. His eyes were sad today. “Not good when you go into the cage with faraway eyes," Tender said. He was called Tender not just because he attended the wrestlers, but also because he was quick to take offense. These men big as tanks were his heroes and he lamented being, by comparison, a little man. Short men can be like that, the Layman thought. He dogeared a copy of, “You Are A Badass,” by Jen Sincero.
“You read all those self help books,” Tender said, “so you should help other people. They’ll pay you, man, and you can put a framed fight poster in your office, of The Layman and The Coroner in the epic battle of the war gods.” He got more enthusiastic while in response, the Layman imagined himself as a psychiatrist. He couldn’t spend all that time in school, but he could steal a degree off a professional psychiatrist’s wall, or, and this felt brilliant, just move The Layman out of the ring and into a home office.
He would call himself, The Lay Psychiatrist. He didn’t pretend legitimacy. He had made respectable money in the ring, was invested in a fund that was paying him an income without touching the principle. He had the cash on hand to get his business opened, but how to get clients? “I’ll write about my clients,” he told Tender, “and the publicity will draw in more clients.”
“Isn’t that against the law?” Tender asked. “I think it’s privileged communication, like with a lawyer or a priest.” He brightened. “Except you’re not going to have any professional standards.” He impersonated Layman, “‘You can’t sue me. I told you up front I don’t have any ethical standards.’”
They began a routine, now, laughing at an imagined indignant con man turning on the mark. “What part of Layman did you fail to understand?” the wrestler asked with mock concern. “I am under the auspices of no professional association.”
They went on like that until Tender went sober. “Seriously,” he said, “I’ll be your first client. I want an hour session, to help you launch your practice.”
“Fifty minutes,” the Layman countered. “I have to take a shower.” And they were laughing again. Still, the idea took root, and it was just a year later when the Lay Psychiatrist was getting referrals, and the business began to blossom.
The Layman said, “By the way, did I win or lose that last match?”
“You win every match,” Tender said. “You’ve got the writer in your corner.”