My Uncle Oswald(66)

“‘So now, frãulein,’ he said, munching away at his chocolate, ‘tell me about this so urgent problem of yours.’

“‘Oh, Doctor Freud, I do hope you can help me!’I cried, working myself up at once. ‘Can I speak to you frankly?’

“‘That’s vot you are here for,’ he said. ‘Lie down on that couch over there, please, and just let yourself go.’

“So I lay down on the goddamn couch, Oswald, and as I did so I thought well anyway I’m going to be in a reasonably comfy place for once when the fireworks start.”

“I see your point.”

“So I said to him, ‘Something terrible is wrong with me, Doctor Freud! Something terrible and shocking!’

“‘And vot is that?’ he asked, perking up. He obviously enjoyed hearing about terrible and shocking things.

“‘You won’t believe it,’ I said, ‘but it is impossible for me to be in the presence of a man for more than a few minutes before he tries to rape me! He becomes a wild animal! He rips off my clothes! He exposes his organ--is that the right word?’

“‘It is as good a word as any,’ he said. ‘Continue, fräulein.’

“‘He jumps on top of me!’ I cried. ‘He pins me down! He takes his pleasure of me! Every man I meet does this to me, Doctor Freud! You must help me! I am being raped to death!’

“‘Dear lady,’ he said, ‘this is a very common fantasy among certain types of hysterical vimmen. These vimmen are all frightened of having physical relations with men. Actually, they long to indulge in fornication and copulation and all other sexy frolics but they are terrified of the consequences. So they fantasize. They imagine they are being raped. But it never happens. They are all firgins.’

“‘No, no!’ I cried. ‘You are wrong, Doctor Freud! I’m not a virgin! I’m the most over-raped girl in the world!’

“‘You are hallucinating,’ he said. ‘Nobody has ever raped you. Vy you do not admit it and you vu1 feel better instamatically?’

“‘How can I admit it when it isn’t true?’ I cried. ‘Every man I’ve ever met has had his way with me! And it’ll be just the same with you if I stay here much longer, you see if it isn’t!’

“‘Do not be ridiculous, fräulein,’ he snapped.

“‘It will, it will!’ I cried. ‘You’ll be as bad as all the rest of them before this session’s over!’

“When I said that, Oswald, the old buzzard rolled his eyes up at the ceiling and smiled a thin supercilious smile. ‘Fantasy, fantasy,’ he said, ‘all is fantasy.’

“‘What makes you think you’re so right and I’m so wrong?’ I asked him.

“‘Allow me to explain a little further,’ he said, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands across his tummy. ‘In your subconscious mind, my dear fräulein, you believe that the masculine organ is a machine-gun--’

“‘That’s just about what it is so far as I’m concerned!’ I cried. ‘It’s a lethal weapon!’

“‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘Now vee are getting somewhere. And you also believe that any man who points it at you is going to pull the trigger and riddle you with bullets.’

“‘Not bullets,’ I said. ‘Something else.’

“‘So you run avay,’ he said. ‘You reject all men. You hide from them. You sit all alone through the nights--’

“‘I do not sit alone,’ I said. ‘I sit with my lovely old Doberman pinscher, Fritzy.’

“‘Male or female?’ he snapped.

“‘Fritzy’s a male.’

“‘Vorse than ever,’ he said. ‘Do you with this Doberman pinscher indulge in sexual relations?’

“‘Don’t be so daft, Doctor Freud. Who do you think I am?’

“‘You run avay from men,’ he said. ‘You run avay from dogs. You run avay from anything that an organ has. . . .’

“‘I’ve never heard such codswallop in all my life!’ I cried. ‘I am not frightened of anyone’s organ! I do not think it’s a machine-gun! I think it’s a bloody nuisance, that’s all! I’m fed up with it! I’ve had enough!’

“‘Do you like carrots, fräulein?’ he asked me suddenly.

“‘Carrots?’ I said. ‘Good God. Not particularly, no. If I do have them I usually dice them. I chop them up.’

“‘Vot about cucumbers, fräulein?’

“‘Pretty tasteless,’ I said. ‘I prefer them pickled.’