Conversations between a Clinophobic and a Shrink
“I’ve got problems. *Every time I go to bed I think there’s somebody under it. I’m scared.. I think I’m going crazy.”
“Just put yourself in my hands for one year,” said the doctor. “Come talk to me three times a week and we should be able to get rid of those fears.”
“How much do you charge?” I asked
“Eighty dollars per visit,” replied the doctor
“I’ll sleep on it,” I said, and off I went to seek solace at my favourite watering-hole.
Six months later the doctor met me on the street.
“Why didn’t you ever come to see me about those fears you were having?” he asked.
“Well,” I said, “Eighty bucks a visit, three times a week for a year, is an awful lot of money!” I said, “A bartender cured me for $10, and I was so happy to have saved all that money that I went and bought myself a new car!’
“Is that so?” said the psychiatrist in a bit of a huff. “And how, may I ask, did a bartender cure you?” “And in such a short time?”
“He told me to cut the legs off the bed! - Ain’t nobody under there now ! ! ! “