I was referred to Dr. Bryan Freud by a friend of my ex- girlfriend. His real name isn’t Freud - I have changed his name for Client/Doctor Confidentiality. I called him the night of the Baby Ken car scream event. I really needed help.
Bryan Freud was about 38, well-dressed, handsome, slightly balding and extremely personable. I immediately felt at home with him. On his computer, I showed him the DVD of my first baby Ken encounter where I flew around the chair. He had never seen anything like it. Oh boy.
I spent the rest of the session filling him in on the whole crazy evolution of THE PEOPLE IN MY HIPS. We set up an appointment for the following Friday and I Ieft.
I walked around the corner to the Starbucks on 41st and Broadway, ordered a Grande Mocha, and found a table in the corner by the window. As I sat sipping my coffee, gazing out at the hustle and bustle of Manhattan I thought to myself:
“Why me? Why did this happen to me? Out of all the people in the world, why was I cursed with People in my Hips? There were a million stories in this naked city, and somehow for some bizarre reason I was cursed with this one."
And then I thought about someday curing myself and telling this tale.
Sitting there, nursing my coffee, gazing out into Times Square, I quietly wept, as a million stories danced by.