She explained that I was one of the few `normal looking' people to request this particular service, and I felt relieved at least to know why she was looking at me that way.She explained that I was one of the few `normal looking' people to request this particular service, and I felt relieved at least to know why she was looking at me that way. I could not understand what might be `normal' or otherwise for a person with a smoking problem, but elected not to pursue the issue. I was shocked when she told me that the fee would be a thousand dollars, but determined to go for it -- I could always press for a refund if I failed to quit. Besides, when she explained that the service consisted of four-hour sessions on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays for six weeks it seemed as if I would be getting quite a lot of attention for my money. I paid for the service with my Visa card and the lady asked my to please have a seat in the waiting room ... that I could begin my therapy shortly since it was a Monday. While in the waiting room I fetched a cigarette from my purse and lit it out of habit before realizing what I had done. Quickly snuffing it out in the ash tray, I looked around sheepishly to see if any of the other people in the room had seen what I did and immediately felt stupid since they could have no idea why I was here. After a few minutes a very pretty blonde haired girl appeared and called my name. "Miss French, would you come with me please?" I could manage only a nod as I stood, looking at the others apologetically for being called before them but they didn't seem at all upset. I followed silently behind the girl as she led me through a doorway into a long gleaming corridor. When the door to the waiting room had closed behind us she turned to me and explained that on this first visit a physical examination and preparation was needed before my session could begin. I told her that I understood and stepped through the first door on the right as she held it open for me. |