Psychiatrist: And what do you see here?
Gynecologist: A vagina.
Psychiatrist: Hmmm… And how about here, what do you see?
Gynecologist: A vagina.
Psychiatrist: Interesting… And in this one?
Gynecologist: Well, I’m certain that’s a vagina. It’s a photograph of a vagina.
Psychiatrist: Yes, it’s my vagina. Is there anything wrong with it?
Gynecologist: It looks pretty good to me.
Psychiatrist: No, come on. Take a closer look. I’m worried about it.
Gynecologist: Hey, buddy, I’m not on duty right now.
Psychiatrist: Come on, man. Analyze my vagina and I’ll give a mental diagnosis on the house. Quid pro quo.
Gynecologist: Hmmm… OK, well, I can tell right off the bat that you probably have a higher than average testosterone level. There are a few things I notice that indicate it, but there’s really nothing to worry about. Other than that everything looks fine.
Psychiatrist: Oh, I have high testosterone now? You think I’m manly?
Gynecologist: That’s not what I’m saying. It’s really nothing to worry about. Just —
Psychiatrist: Well, here’s your diagnosis: You’re a dickhead. How’s that?
Gynecologist: Hey, no I’m not! I’m a doctor, damn it.
Psychiatrist: A doctor of judgment!
Gynecologist: Look, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s a common condition, and there’s nothing wrong with you.
Psychiatrist: OK, sure, whatever… Can we carry on?
Gynecologist: You tell me.
Psychiatrist: Let’s focus. So what do you see in this one?
Gynecologist: Don’t show me that, I’m not a proctologist.
Psychiatrist: It’s your face! Hahahahahahaha!
Gynecologist: Hey! I’m sorry, OK? Let’s try to be mature. Stop showing me your junk.
Psychiatrist: I am this close to kicking the shit out of you.
Gynecologist: You’re a wuss.
The psychiatrist leapt onto the gynecologist’s gut, grabbing him by the hair and pummeling his face.
The gynecologist saw an opening and elbowed her in the jaw, knocking her backward as her head smashed through the glass coffee table.
The psychiatrist snapped to her feet, shards jutting from her skull, to headbutt her adversary and slice open his face.
Blinded with blood, the gynecologist grabbed something heavy at random, which could have been a bust of Sigmund Freud, and swung it till he felt a soft thud — the psychiatrist’s ribcage.
In a rage she pounced on him again, and they brawled for the remainder of the session, smashing furniture, windows, and bones until both were left panting and wheezing on the office floor.
The gynecologist sat up, wiped his eyes, and spat out a tooth.
Gynecologist: You know, aside from your killer left hook, you actually carry yourself in a traditionally feminine way, like Mae West even.
Psychiatrist: Thanks, but I feel like a freak right now.
Gynecologist: Well, for the record, just because a woman has higher testosterone levels doesn’t necessarily mean she’s more masculine.
Psychiatrist: I’m a freak. I belong in a freak show.
Gynecologist: Don’t say that.
Psychiatrist: It’s true.
Gynecologist: No, don’t say “freak show.” It’s offensive.
Psychiatrist: Why? That’s the word that attracts a crowd. That’s what allows for the dream job — traveling around in a carnival, having people gawk at you.
Gynecologist: That’s not a dream job. The people who run those things exploit the disadvantaged.
Psychiatrist: You think they’re disadvantaged? Can you entertain a crowd just by walking onstage and standing there?
Gynecologist: That’s the point, they’re being used. It’s just like minstrelsy.
Psychiatrist: It’s not. Ever been to a freak show?
Gynecologist: No. I don’t even think they’re still around.
Psychiatrist: They are, and the people in the crowd aren’t exactly cookie cutter, either. It’s the socially abnormal cheering on the physically abnormal. It’s a beautiful thing.
White-collar business types aren’t sipping 20-dollar scotches and watching the game in a sparkly bar and then saying, “Hey, you know what sounds fun? A freak show!”
Gynecologist: So who goes to them?
Psychiatrist: I don’t know if it’s any sort of clique, but they’re weird people. You never see them in real life. You’re never going to bump into a friend or an ex at a freak show.
Check it out, regular types are entertained by people just a little bit stranger than themselves — like comedians or rockstars or whatever. People who like freak shows are crazier than comedians and rockstars, so they need to be hit with something intense in order to be entertained.
Think about that and realize that everyone who’s ever been onstage has been exploited to a degree.
Gynecologist: What about scholarly types? Or presidential debates? They’re all onstage.
Psychiatrist: That’s different. They have podiums.
Gynecologist: So all it takes is podiums?
Psychiatrist: Yeah. It’s like putting a monocle on a hobo. It’s the subtleties that matter. A hobo with a monocle can be a practicing psychiatrist in less than a day.
Gynecologist: Huh? Oh…