The company psychiatrist was interviewing the young blonde.
As she sat in the chair, the psychiatrist asked a series of questions to determine if she was emotionally suitable for the company. Things were not going well for the young blonde.
The psychiatrist decided to try a new approach, to give the blonde one last chance.
He asked, “If you could have a conversation with someone, living or d3ad, who would it be?”
The blonde quickly responded, “The living one.”
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The psychiatrist was not expecting the distraught stranger who staggered into his office and slumped into a chair.
“You’ve got to help me. I’m losing my memory, Doctor,” he sobbed. “I once had a successful business, a wife, home and family; I was a respected member of the community. But all that’s gone now. Since my memory began failing, I’ve lost the business – I couldn’t remember my clients’ names. My wife and children have left me, too; and why shouldn’t they – some nights I wouldn’t get home until four or five in the morning. I’d forget where I lived… And it’s getting worse. Doctor, it’s getting worse!”
“This is not an unusual form of neurosis,” the psychiatrist said soothingly. “Now tell me, just how long ago did you first become aware of this condition?”
“Condition?” The man sat up in his chair. “What condition?!?”