Got Therapy?

"No, no, you go on ahead, ma'am… I'll wait my turn…” He says.

"Um, you were here first…” She says.

"I know, but you are a lady, and a lady can go first,” his dumb ass excuse.

Wilma turns her back to the man, placing her check card inside the machine. She shows no signs of feeling threatened; however, she can see him visibly through the security mirrors as he creeps up behind her. Wilma enters her pin number… BEEP..! BEEP! “God damn, those buttons are loud! Yeah, let any real thief that might be lurking around know that Wilma's making a transaction.” She says to herself. The dumb ass thief is standing an inch away, behind her. Wilma turns around and looks him in the eye.

"What the fuck you want?! You want my money, well shiiiit… Look it! Ain't a God damn dime in there, just a bunch of penalty fees and overcharges… Look!” Wilma shows him her account. “Not a fuck'n dime in there, just a negative two-hundred dollars!” She rolls her eyes.

"What's your name son?”

"Sammy…”

"Rule of thumb, Sammy... When I was walking up here, I knew what was about to happen. Any idiot could have seen that! A man, wearing a ball cap with his head hanging low, his hands in his baggy sweat shirt pockets and pretending he has a gun--pull your hands out of your pocket, Sammy, so I can see them.”

Sammy pulls his hands out from his pockets. She steps up to him, padding his pockets and feeling around inside them and finds nothing… “What the hell, Sammy! What the fuck were you planning on holding me up with..?” Sammy is silent while scratching his head thinking about the question.

"I just might have been scared and believed you had a gun, if you weren't so damn obvious! A real robber wouldn't be sitting next to the ATM where everybody can see him! Your ass should be hidden in those bushes over there or around that dark corner over yonder, where I-CAN'T-SEE-YOU!” She says, “What a dumb ass!” mumbling to herself…

Sammy is embarrassed and not too sure how to take the criticism from his victim. He takes his ball cap off his head, holding it to his side, swinging both hands back and forth while holding his cap. He watches Wilma and is very intimidated by her. Wilma places her hand on the ATM and biting at her nails with the other. She can't seem to make sense out of her financial burden. Not to mention, she has totally forgotten about her so-called robber.

"I can treat you to some Denny's, if you like..?” as his voice cracks.

"What's your full-name Sammy?”

"Sammy… Sammy Davis…”

"Like the singer..? Sammy Davis Jr.?”

Sammy nods.

"Uh-huh… Okay… You still trying to play `cops and robbers with me?”

"What are you talking about..? Cops and robbers..?”

"You can't bull-shit a bull-shitter, Sammy… If that's your real name…”

"Here, I'll prove it to you!” Sammy shows Wilma his driver's license.

"Wow! That's kind of cool!” She smiles.

Sammy smiles at Wilma. She notices his beautiful, white teeth and how cute he was the night she met him. Sammy was taken by Wilma's beauty, as well. She had long, jet-black hair, which Sammy would later call it “Barbie doll hair" because of how perfect it was. Wilma had expressive, brown eyes. He was also taken by how forceful she was with him. “I like a woman who can hold her own.” He says about her.

Sammy and Wilma had amazing sex around the clock. “Sex was so good back in those days; I just had to name it. I called it The Candy Man." Wilma would always smile and brag to her girlfriends about the size of Candy Man and the size of his two big blue balls she named Frank and Dean. “But sometimes, they look like two big umpa lumpus.” Wilma stated.

Less than a year, the two were married and had moved to Texas, where Mr. Sammy Davis and Mrs. Wilma Davis produced two children together. The two completed their Rat Pack when naming their two boys, Joey and Peter. The marriage had its ups and downs, especially being married to a wimp like Sammy. After fifteen years of marriage, The Candy Man could not anymore. Sammy had a hard time accepting his being impotent. “The candy man can, yes the candy man can…” Wilma sings to Sammy's penis as she jerks him off.

Sammy's fuse became a lot shorter, figuratively and literally. Sammy began to complain more to Wilma and ridiculed her for being a fortune teller. “Hey, bitch!” Sammy would say to Wilma, whenever he needed something. “Once Sammy was impotent, he became a real ass-hole!” Wilma would say. “He treated me like shit. He would find any reason to bring me and other people around him down to his level. ALL BECAUSE OF HIS FUCK'N CANDY MAN!”

"You know you can't read nobody's mind… You ain't no god damn psychic, bitch!” Sammy slurs while drinking some boxed wine and beer. “However, I proved his ass wrong!” She said. “I walked right up to his impotent ass and read his future… I see you getting served in about a week…” And the two were divorced within a week. “Now, how amazing is that!?!” Wilma later asked Sammy.

"One thing I do miss about being married to Sammy is telling people how we met. Telling them how I was walking up to an ATM about 3AM, and he was standing there, thinking he was going to rob my ass… And instead, I robbed him that night of his dignity!” Wilma laughs… “Oh, and his virginity! Can you believe that idiot was twenty-three when I met him and still a virgin!?”