The Lovely Chocolate Mob - By Richard J. Bennett Page 0,12

my back get tense, then I tried to sound casual when I said “No.” I braced myself for what the next question would be, one that’s been asked at other times by other people.

“Have you ever been married, Mr. Owen?” I paused, waiting for the appropriate moment to respond. “No, I’ve never been married.” Miss Planter lowered her clipboard and looked at me. It wasn’t a look of disgust, but more of surprise. I took that as a good sign.

Miss Planter turned her gaze back to her clipboard, and flipped it a few pages. “She’s heading over to different territory,” I thought. “She’s looking for reinforcements. The next few questions are going to be invasive.”

“Have you ever considered matrimony?” she asked.

I almost laughed. Have I ever considered it? Only every day for the past 35 years!

“Yes, I’ve given it some thought,” I replied.

“Well, what were your thoughts on the subject?”

“My thoughts were that marriage wasn’t an option at the time,” I said, hoping she’d wrap this subject up in a hurry.

“Was there ever a time you felt it might be right for you to marry?”

She’s gone from thinking to feeling. That’s what women do; I wondered if she realized it.

“Yes, I felt it might have been a good idea to get married around the magic age of 25 or so, as a person just out of college who had worked a few years. But that was half my life ago.” That ought to kill the subject.

Miss Planter looked a little frustrated, as though she was having difficulty remembering that this is a “non-judgmental” office. She was masking her emotions, but I “think” she was “feeling” mad at my answers in this territory. I wondered how mad I could make her before she blew her top? Should I push her buttons and see if I could get her to explode? I decided against this; she’s done nothing wrong to me, not yet, anyhow.

Her next question drew blood. “Have you ever been in love?” she asked.

Well, now, that’s a romantic question. How did we go from marriage to love? My answers had to sound detached, devoid of showing any care.

“Yes, once I allowed myself to become emotionally involved … in a significant way.”

I had just opened the door for all kinds of questions now. Miss Planter would probably want to know all the details. Hopefully she, the mental health counselor, could remain professional.

“Since you haven’t married, I can only assume that you never pursued the relationship with marriage and family as being the ultimate goal.” Boy, she said a mouthful. She was prodding and poking around in the dark, trying to draw me out.

I replied, “And I assume you want to know why I’ve never married.”

I saw the lights go on in Miss Planter’s head; she nodded. “Yes, I think that would be helpful information.”

I continued, “The reason I’ve never married is… because nobody’s ever asked me.”

I saw Miss Planter’s face drop, and I couldn’t help but chuckle, which now seemed to annoy her. I laughed at this for a moment, then said, “You were hoping for some good stuff, weren’t you?”

“No,” she said, “I was hoping for some answers. Haven’t you ever thought about this?”

“Haven’t I ever thought about this? Yes, I’ve thought about it all the time! Truthfully? The honest answer is, I don’t really know why I’ve never married. It’s something I’ve never put all my effort into. I’ve been mostly content these past few decades, and I guess I just didn’t want to rock the boat.”

That seemed to placate Miss Planter, at least for this session, perhaps. She would probably retreat and think of some more questions for me on this subject, I’m sure. This would give me more time to come up with more punchlines.

“Do you like women?” she said, a lightning bolt out of the blue.

“Do I like women?” I said. “Yes, I like women: fried and over-easy.”

Miss Planter didn’t laugh. I waited to get chewed out, but that didn’t happen. Guess I’d have to tell the truth. “Yes I like women, in a way. As long as they don’t stress me out and cause any trouble.”

I could see Miss Planter’s eyes grow cold and glaring when she asked, “What kind of trouble, Mr. Owen?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I replied. “Any kind of trouble. Trouble in the way that they can draw you away from your work or purpose, or pull you away from what you’re supposed to be doing, or be a financial drain, or