Drop In Centre


“I’m not cut out for the NHS.”

Heinrich actually agreed with me for once. “Indeed. You are clearly unsuitable for such work.”

We were sitting in his darkened office, the one with the double-lock door. Heinrich was suavely sipping his civet poo from a delicate, china cup. The smell was tantalising.

The Germans are a peculiar race, producing some of the hottest porn known to man. Doctors and nurses going at it night and day. And then there was that cold fish, Heinrich. Heinrich had the bluest eyes, the blue was almost white. In fact, he was barely human; he was created in a lab by Mengele.

Heinrich placed his cup and saucer down on the desk in front of him. Here I was, dead on my feet, yet Heinrich never even offered me a thimbleful of his precious brew.

He came around and sat on the chair next to me. He stank of bergamot. “So! How are we feeling today, David?”

“Not good, I’m being spied on.”

Heinrich crossed his legs. “Spied upon David?”

“Take this building,” I said. “it’s infested.”

“Yes of course, but let’s talk about Princess,” Heinrich purred. “How are your feelings about her these days?”

“I hate that cow. She never even spares a thought for the underprivileged”

Heinrich’s eyes glistened. “Yes go on.”

“A tough day for that bitch is working out at the gym. All she has to do is flash her beef and the boss gives her an instant raise. He sees her as prime real-estate. I’ve a good mind to go around there and chop his Japanese nuts off!”

Heinrich said, “very aggressive, David.”

“The only thing stopping me is the thought of being raped twice a day in Broadmoor prison by some lunatic orderly.”

“Prison has its advantages of course,” Heinrich said, sounding sympathetic. “Zero rent, breakfast, dinner and tea, free psychiatric care.”

I gave up on the killing idea; it didn’t appeal, especially that last bit.

“She was forever cheating on you, was she not?” Probed Heinrich.

“Yeah. Some butt-fucker she she met on Facebook.”

Heinrich shifted in his seat. The leather creaked loudly. “Care to talk about it?”

“I came home, she was sitting there sticking likes all over this guy’s Facebook.”

“And how did that make you feel?”

“It drove me insane. Princess swore blind he was gay, but I know that trick, lure them in with harmless fag-banter then bang the pussy off of them. I’ve tried it myself once or twice.”

“What did you do when you discovered her online infideltity?”

I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a carving knife, I was ready to cut the bitch’s laptop into tiny pieces.”


“Yeah, lucky for her the Pizza Delivery man came knocking. She legged it with her laptop. I never saw her again.” The hysteria I felt that night returned. “These greedy Arabs are everywhere man! They’re taking over the world!”

“Don’t you sink you are being somewhat melodramatic, not to mention sexist and racist?” Heinrich suggested.

“Listen you German dipstick! I’m the victim here! All night I was on the can! My butt was running like a leaky tap!”

Heinrich made a funny noise at the back of his throat. “Really?”

“Yeah really! Besides, if it weren’t for that fake-fag she’d still be here today.”

Heinrich smirked. “I somehow doubt it.”

“Fuck you Heinrich!”

I went back in my mind to the morning after the night before. I poured out the story to Heinrich. I was in a bad way, my guts were tumbling onto the floor. Princess’s Prada knock-off was in the lounge. She had abandoned it in her haste to break free.

I tipped it upside down searching for a napkin to stem the flow of my diarrhea, but I might have known. Women like Princess don’t believe in napkins; they use slimline tampons. That infuriated me even more, I find tampons immoral. I pictured Princess walking around town getting high on tampon fixes! A tear suddenly hit my eye.

If Heinrich was moved by my sad story of abandonment, he didn’t show it. Instead, he scribbled out the usual prescription. Lithium, 1000mg, then glanced coldly at his watch. “I’m afraid our session is at an end.”

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