"I have no problem staying up all night trying to find things to do, but I still can't make it on time to a 7am appointment?.. Weaving in and out of traffic lines in attempt to gain an extra minute. Seriously, why do I risk my life for a stranger I've never met. Calm down", she mumbled under her breath, slamming her skirt in the car door. The Dream Doctor's office was in a small business park, covered in morning glory blooms and climbing vines. Pulling a few to the side, she saw the tiny brass initials covered with vines, "JB DD.", above a small set of red French doors. "Is that John Brennen...Dream Doctor? What in the world was I doing here?
I sat in a ridiculous red velvet wallpapered waiting room, on a designer Italian chaise lounge. There's an actual bear rug by a fireplace? It's August. In Southern California. "Good morning, miss. Have you checked in?" An incredibly sultry pouty lipped young girl rose from behind a tall white marble countertop. "oh, uh...no, I'm sorry. Didn't see ya over there", I managed to stutter. There was some kind of intoxicating scent and movement to her that seemed to defy the laws of gravity the rest of us in the world had to live with. Like some Brazilian deity with slow motion willowy moving hair. "Oh, its you! Nevermind. Dr. Brennen is looking forward to meeting you. Come with me", she said, extending a perfect nail-model hand to me. Do I hold it? Did I get lost and end up in the Playboy mansion or something? Against my better judgment, I reached out and let her lead me through a dim lit mirrored hallway. "Dr, Brennan, she's here". She acted as if they had known me for years. So why am I so at peace? This should be creeping me out right now. Maybe that's how alone I've felt lately. It felt surprisingly good to hear it.
The Brazilian goddess flashed a perfect smile, motioning me to the next couch that probably costed more my car. I sat down and took in my surroundings. A dim lit man's man of an office. The only thing missing was the cigar humidor room and some massive elk heads, on the walls. The ceilings were so tall I could barely see where it ended. There were a few floor lamps glowing with a especially warm yellow light. "Sun downers", I thought. People buy those lamps to help with depression and anxiety from sunlight depravation. Is that the trick? Is that what he does? Sells you a sun lamp?
Nothing could've prepared me for the turn of the brown leather chair behind that desk. "Welcome, Pricilla. I've been expecting you".