Four years ago I was in therapy. in Beverly Hills I found her on the LGBTQ center site. I am not LGBT or Q but the LGBTQ center in Hollywood has a site with a very thorough listing of therapists including specialties listed and if they take insurance. It’s so sad but I can’t even remember this woman’s name. She took my insurance until about three weeks in suddenly my bill went way up. I asked her and she said it’s because I have a serious acute condition.
“What is that?” I wondered.
This was news to me. I thought I just had a drinking problem. Apparently when you take away the depressant and are still depressed there’s the real problem.
Things went well until one day I show up on time for my appointment and hear shouting through the double doors. She is on the phone with what I assume is a lover. Arguing. I wonder if her lover is a woman or a man. It goes on for a while, eating into my time. When she finally lets me in through the two doors I debate between just ignoring it or lightly joking “Hey I guess these two doors aren’t really sound proof!” I sit down in the orange chair and can’t help it. Suddenly I am the therapist. “Everything okay?”
“Of course everything’s okay.”
“I heard shouting.”
“There was no shouting. Everything’s fine.”
Her denial was casebook. Her face and neck were red until at least 25 minutes into the session. I stopped seeing her not long after the incident. She just didn’t seem qualified to help me cope with my own denial when she was such an expert at covering up her own. If I wanted a partner in crime, though, she would be of use.
I have to admit I partially chose this therapist because the photos in the website were of cool mid-century modern furnishings and it was right down the street from the free Beverly Hills parking garage.
I suppose if I really wanted to I could have had her prescribe me some pills for that serious depression, but the fact is I was trying to stay off any mood altering substances.
My Beverly Pills experience started a few months later when I had the fortune of working as the personal assistant to an aesthetician who was on the rise for her skin treatments. My psychic friend Kris st me up for this job which would pay 25$ an hour under the table. NICE. what wasn’t so nice was she failed to fill me in on lima’s mother issues and lack of boundaries. The red flags went up with all the pharmacy visits. She told her other aesthetician friend about me who hired me and first day wanted me to go to RITE AID. I said this is the wrong time of day for that. it’s going to be super crowded. WHo knew there were two Rite Aids in Beverly hills within four blocks of each other? It was to handle all those prescription demands.
Beverly Hills has three main industries as far as I can tell. Mental health, beauty treatments including plastic surgery, and ear, nose and throat specialists. Oh and I guess you could say high-end shopping. But gone are the days of Pretty Woman. These shops are in every major mall in america now. Now that malls are going away with online shopping perhaps one day Rodeo Drive and it’s shops will again be unique. But the real draw for Beverly Hills are one hour appointments hence the free parking garages.
There was no time to walk and driving four blocks to the very crowded Rite Aid on Canon sounded like a nightmare. She got very mad and grabbed the prescription from my hand saying she would do it herself.
It’s just for my colonopin. I only need it like once a year. I’ll get it myself!”
“Oh I didn’t know there was a Rite Aid downstairs. ”
Clearly she needed it and probably for more than once a year. I let her do it. I didn’t go back to that job.
Mila freaked out on my one day saying she wouldn’t be back until 6 so I went to target to get her paper towels even though I had bought her a twelve pack a week ago. I guess she took them to her salon. I get back from Target and there she is in her nightshirt freaking out because I didn’t properly clean her floors. I showed her where the paper towels were and left. The next day she said i bought her the wrong food. I was tempted to never show up but needed to give her back the parking pass and her keys. i show up and she had left the food out of the fridge. i took it back to the store for a cash refund. I left her parking pass and wrote a note that explained I didn’t steal her friends necklace. I didn’t say what I wanted to say.
“You’re crazy! I don’t want to pick up your prescriptions or send your angry files to your ex husband or your packages to your dad with altzheimers anymore or pick up your dry cleaning. YOU take too many pills, lady!”
I got angry texts and emails from her for over a month demanding her parking pass which i had very clearly left in the green folder on her computer.
Why didn’t she and her friend just get their prescriptions filled online and order off Amazon?
I knew things weren’t going well for me when i had my own meltdown in the Vons Pavilions getting her Buddig turkey.
It was the first time in months I really wanted my own Beverly pills. Or a drink. So I quit all the ladies in Beverly pills. Good riddance.
One thing I learned from pretty woman is there is a such a thing as shopping therapy and it’s the only therapy I need. I don’t go to Beverly hills to fulfill it though. I stay home and shop online.