Marnie:
“I’m sick and tired of hearing Norman ramble on about his mother.”
Dr.
Peterson: “Now, now, Margaret, how do we express
our objections concerning someone else’s behavior?”
Marnie:
“I feel frustrated when he—”
Dr.
Peterson: “Speak
directly to Norman, Margaret.”
Marnie: “I feel frustrated when, you,
Norman, blame every blessed thing on your poor mother.”
Bob
[huffily]: “Are you sympathizing with your
mother, Marnie, or Marion, or May, or whatever your name is?”
Marnie:
“Sympathize! Oh, mama, I can sympathize, Mr. Rusk! All I did was steal
from the filthy rich and give to my poor mother.”
Scottie
[whispering]: “I think that—”
[Marnie silences Scottie with a
threatening stare and rephrases her response to Rob Rusk.]
Marnie: “What I did was an accident."
Norman: “We’re all accidents. Everyone one of us.”
Marnie:
“I feel more like a victim than an accident.”
Dr.
Peterson: “Tell us about feeling like a victim,
Marnie.”
[Scottie makes another attempt at getting
noticed by raising his hand. Marnie is not thrilled about answering her
therapist’s question and is exasperated by Scottie’s interruptions.]
Marnie:
“Yes, Scottie, what is it?
Scottie: “I have a suggestion for you, Marnie. Have you ever thought
about wearing your beautiful, blonde hair in a French twist? A gray suit or
black evening dress would suit you nicely. I once knew a woman . . . actually
two women . . . or was it just one? I can’t remember.”
Norman
[whining]: “But my mother’s not dead.”
[I surreptitiously slip two aspirin from
a bottle and swallow them dry.]
[C. P., MD]
Join Dr. Peterson tomorrow for round two when she tries again.
