It's that emotional age bullshit

Hey! Welcome back! Sit down, young stranger.

Nice line. Can I have it for a song?

You'll have to ask Gordon Lightfoot about it. That's one of his songs.

Oh. Well. Anyway, In case you haven't noticed, I'm not a young man. Haven't been for several years.

Oh, you're talking about chronological age. I'm talking about your emotional age.

(sarcastically) Oh, then, it figures.

I'm not trying to insult you, farmboy. It's just that you are a young man in your emotional life.

Am not!

Are too! What I mean, farmboy, was that there are missing pieces to your psychological jigsaw puzzle...

Whatever you say, Mr. I'm-not-a-psychiatrist-I'm-just-a-fuckin'-interviewer man.

Look...Let's talk about taking meds.

Let's not and say we did. There's not much you can lecture me on that I don't already know. And, look, maybe my fuckin' emotional age is 14 or whatever...

It would be older than that, farmboy.

It's just, look, I fuckin' hate being lectured. I'd rather be hit than lectured. And who the fuck do you think you are that you have the right to lecture me like I'm a fuckin' teenager or something.

Whoa, farmboy...

Listen to you. You're so fuckin' condescending.

What is this about? Where are you coming from?

I don't wanna be lectured!

I'm not going to lecture you, farmboy. I just wanted to ask you if there's been any improvement.

Oh. Yeah. Immediately, actually.

No more noise from your eyes?

No, that's gone. You know, a lot has actually happened since we last talked. School ended yesterday. I went out with my coworkers and I had a beer and one hit of pot. I've played twice since then, one at this dive of a bar. I mean, it wasn't a bad bar, but it was a bar. People aren't there to listen to the music.

Then tonight I played another gig, over at the coffeehouse. Made 60 bucks. I am seriously thrilled about that. 60 bucks buys a lot of groceries. I played okay, but I messed up some words and...I don't want to discuss it right now, but I really need to talk some time about the anxiety I'm experiencing over performing.

But back to the meds...

I think we should look at your reaction to the possibility of talking about your meds.

I felt like I was being scolded. I felt like a little kid who is supposed to hang down his head when he hasn't done anything wrong. I didn't do this intentionally. Fuck, man, then you fuckin' yell at me like you're my dad or something. And you're not my dad.

So you felt like a little kid...

Oh, shit, it's that emotional age bullshit.

You're the one who said it, not me.

Fuck you!

Yeah? Well, fuck you, too!

Hey!

Hey what?

You're not supposed to talk to me like that!

I'm going to start saying what I really think, farmboy. I'm tired of tippy-toe-ing around you. Yes, I was fuckin' mad at you because -- whether you meant to or not -- you did a fuckin' stupid thing. And you're not stupid. You know better. And I'm mad because it's fucking dangerous! You know better, farmboy. You're so much smarter than that.

You're -- you're still mad, aren't you?

Yes. And you know what?

What?

So are you.

Man...

Look, let's talk tomorrow. I think we both need a little distance right now.

Are you saying the therapy session is now ending, Mr. I'm-not-a-psychiatrist...?

Very funny. See you tomorrow?

See you tomorrow.