Today I actually considered therapy. For a few seconds, anyway. I really don’t believe in it as a science, or as any kind of medicine. I guess if you have loads of cash that you are in need of wasting, then seeing a therapist will be helpful. And there are some people—although I believe the number is very small—who need therapy to survive.

But the overwhelming majority of people who see a psychologist on a regular basis could find some cheaper way to work out their everyday problems. For me, writing helps to restore my equilibrium. Most people could find a similar release to avoid paying another person to listen to their problems.

My reason for considering therapy would have been to try to work out my shyness. I’ve come to the conclusion that I can’t meet women because I’m not forward enough. I had to settle on this reason, because any other possible cause would be too depressing: I’m too ugly or too fat or a total loser, etc. Plus, I’ve seen ladies with all sorts of hideously deformed men, so if these ogres can do it, I, too, should be able to get a woman. Yes, the fact that I can’t go strolling up to a strange woman in a public place and start talking to her must be the reason why I can’t get laid.

So, having isolated the problem, the logical conclusion seemed to be to talk to someone who could solve it. Ergo, therapy. But carrying the thought process slightly further—which is what most people who seek out psychologists should do—I reasoned out why therapy would be a foolish path and a waste of money.

Okay, let’s look at the problem again. As I’ve said, my basic hang-up is that I can’t get laid. Now, the proposed solution—going to therapy—would cost $100 or so a week, and go on forever. And, I still might not have any sex in the foreseeable future.

Can any of you see another solution, one costing about the same, and with guaranteed results? One where I might have to spend $100 or so per week but will be sure to have sex and work out my frustrations? Congratulations to you clever boys and girls who came up with the answer. Hookers. Call girls. Pros. No matter what you call them, for about the same price as an hour with a shrink, you can get an hour of sex. Let’s compare the experiences.

Therapy. I go to the therapist’s office. I have to wait for him to see me. I go in to the office, sit on the couch, and talk for an hour. He listens, jots down notes, and occasionally answers a question with a question, or makes some other meaningless remark. When the session is over, I get up and write a check on the way out. I’m as sexually frustrated as when I came (arrived, I should say, since if I came I wouldn’t still be frustrated).

Sex with a professional. I beep an escort. She phones back in a few minutes and we strike a deal. She comes to my apartment. She fulfills my wildest fantasies for an hour. If I wish, I can even babble on about my life and any problems I’m having, and she may even respond intelligently. When the session is over, she gets up (I’m too weak) and gets dressed. I pay her in cash, and she leaves. I’m totally sated and feeling much better than when she came (she may or may not have—who cares?).

Conclusion. The conclusion is inescapable. Which of these sounds better to you? Which is more convenient and less of a hassle? Which is a better value? If I’m going to spend that kind of money on a regular basis, I want to at least enjoy it.

What do you think? Are you a pro? Can you recommend anyone in the Boston area? If so, or if you just want to bullshit, feel free to e-mail me at scooter262@yahoo.com