The Acupuncturist Pt. 1

Was she gypsy? I couldn’t tell…while I was in the waiting room a rough looking Russian came in with his slaggy girlfriend. Leggy, but worn out. The acupuncturist and the couple spoke Russian. Okay, we’ll go with Russian.

I’d been feeling really awful lately. The right side of my face was having shooting pains to my brain. The pain is what really clogged up my thinking. It reached my sinuses to which it was really giving me trouble.

I got led into a room and waited. After she set up that couple she came into my room. While she moved in closer, I can tell she was a middle aged woman who probably was a looker back in her youth. She reminded me of a college film student from Poland I’d once knew. Her makeup was much too young for her age. I’d chosen her over the Asian listings because…Yelp reviews recommended her highly.

She took my hand and felt my pulse. A few seconds passed. Then a minute. Then she blurted in a twinge of her Russian accent “You are angry. You yell angry at people.”

My brain shot a “say whaaaaat?” look to my face. How the FUCK did she know that? Unbelievable. Lately I’ve been really unhinged when it came to screaming awful things to people. SO…like that dude in that Dirty Harry movie…I GOTS TA’ KNOW.

“Whoa…I do…how’d you know?” I asked, amazed at the dead-on balls diagnosis.

Russians are pretty blunt “your blood and pulse.”

Now, I’m no believer in Kreskin, but I didn’t tell her shit and she could tell that. Okay…I thought…where we going with this.

I proceeded to the table where she stuck me with needles and left me to “try to sleep.” I couldn’t, since there was shooting pains hitting my brain. After a little bit I did start to relax. Let’s backtrack a bit..

As she was sticking me with needles this was our conversation:

Her: “you have anger?”

Me: “I do. Dunno why.”

Her: “girl?”
Me: “Use to be.”

Her: “holding onto anger about a girl?”

Me: “Yeah. I also use to drink a lot.” These needles are truth serum.

Her: “Drinking make it better?”

Me: “Probably not.”

Her: “you drink because girl left you?”

Me: “Something like that.”

Her: “But it doesn’t make you better?”

Me: “No.”

Her: “You need purpose. Cannot be girl. Cannot be job.”

I paused..the FUCK?! Did that hand just transfer my thoughts from last night? Did my hand and wrist, blood and pulse just tap this message to her.

Me: “Um…yeah” I could only choke out.

Her: “only girl in world?” I kinda’ felt that she was mocking me at this point, cause she repeated this…A LOT. It implied “she is NOT the only girl in the world.”

Me: “No. It’s behind me.”

Her: “you still angry? Over girl. You have women control you. How is your relationship with mother?”

Me: “Good. We get along.” She nodded. Not sure if this is just small talk or she was trying to figure me out.

Her: “only girl in the world” she muttered it that time. All while sticking pins in me. She obviously believed lamenting over a single girl was laughably stupid. She isn’t wrong. I remained quiet. Then she went into that spiritual talk.

Her: “Try to sleep. You are one with the universe.”

And then she disappeared from the room. “Oh great” I thought. Just when I thought I found a mind-reading gypsy, she hits me with guru shit.

Well, I made the best of it. Then she came back in after an hour. And she was all smiles. “Better?”

Me: “Yeah, a little, less dizzy and nauseous.”

Her: “Good. Will fix you 100%. Do you want cupping?”

Didn’t know what that was, but fuck yeah, if it sounds like what I think it was.

Her: “Take off shirt and lie on stomach.”

You don’t have to tell me twice.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t what I was hoping.

She attached suction cups to my back and took the air out. Leaving big welts on my back. After she was done, she told me to exercise more and get a mouth guard to alleviate the grinding I do at night. And that I also have lower back pain, according to the what the suction cups brought to the surface. Swell.

I scheduled another appointment with her for next week. As I’m afraid she knows all my secrets from that one hand holding moment. But more importantly, the confidence she had to get me back to normal. Or close to.

She ended with this “you live pain free life, find a girl and be happy.”

To which my wise-ass mistakenly said “girls bring pain.”

She looked at me curiously “why you say that?” like a concerned mother.

“Y’know…like, it’s that joke. Women bring us pain. You know…right” I trailed off…then…silence.

She smiled politely…this schtick lost on her “we make you full better than we look for girl for you.” I exited into the North Hollywood mire of humanity, looked at my hand and wrist, still reeling at how she knew I was prone to yell at people.

I look forward to our next meeting. Maybe next time she’ll warn me of the dangers of chronic masturbation and singing “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now” in a drunken stupor.