“So hear me out,” Is possibly the worst start to a sentence I’ve ever heard. Something about attempting to justify your point before you even share it doesn’t rub me the right way. I hear some variation of this on a daily basis, and I know what I signed myself up for dropping out of medical school to become a black market doctor. I don’t go around fire expecting not to sweat. However, you’d think common sense would be a little more… common. Anyways, my client continues.

“Have you seen that one anime with that guy? And he like, has those powers and does that really cool transformation thing?” I just asked this woman for a clear description of what she would like done, and she instead decided to describe 90% of all anime. Wonderful description for somebody like a mind reader. I’m not a mind reader. My face said it all, and she back tracked for clarity.

“I don’t know the name, I’ve only seen clips on twitter. But he’s got a ripcord on his chest and when he pulls it, he like, grows chainsaws.” I questioned my life choices and how I got to be in this situation. I considered going back to medical school to do something meaningful with my life. There wasn’t a chance in hell that I was dealing with a real person. I don’t know what real person thinks that it’s possible to transform into a mechanical tool.

I let out an exhale, trying to ready myself for an interesting conversation. “That’s not possible-“ “Yes it is.” She cut me off before I could finish. I felt like I had an aneurysm. I had never had a client this moronic before, it was appalling. Okay, different approach. “I don’t do that kind of work.” I said in the calmest tone I could muster. Her enthusiastic expression turned into a frown. “But… what do you do?” Anything a normal doctor could do, but running from the law while doing it. “I specialize in organ transplants, and I also-“ She piped up at the word transplants. “You do transplants? So why can’t you put a chainsaw in my head?”

I certainly wanted to put a chainsaw in her head, just not in the way that she’d like. At this point, my face was buried deep in both of my hands. Back to contemplating. What did I do to deserve this? Is this karma? This has to be the last job. I’m at a good point financially, I can quit and put this behind me. My client continued to talk, barraging me with questions about the process. How long would it take to get done? How much would it cost? None of it concerned me, and I ignored her as I began to mentally walk myself through the process of college re enrollment.