Play therapy, cinquième fois

Good God, expateek. You're here again?

I thought I told Yvette to keep you the hell away from me
to book you in for later in the afternoon.
Oh well. You're here now.
I suppose we might as well get started.
What have you got for us today?

Well, Dr. Owl, I've been thinking. I'm feeling quite a bit better after all this play therapy. I think it may be having a positive effect. I'm much happier on a day-to-day, even moment-to-moment basis. I think perhaps I've worked out most of my latent patently obvious hostilities toward French executives, corporate politics, and the global financial crisis. I even feel a little more gracious about Satan's minions Human Resources staff. I think it's all coming together now.

In fact, Owl, I decided that since we're being relocated against our wishes so happily to America, that I'd get in the spirit of the thing and do some play work centered around an American theme.

Well, expateek. This is good news. Please, do tell. I'm all ears.

Ok, well...

Le French boss of the bad news is being rewarded for his cost-cutting and heads-a-rolling personnel policies with a fantastic Alaskan holiday! He's never been to America before, and certainly never to Alaska, home of zat sweet fox, Sarah Palin. Wowza. He is so aroused excited inspired by her sexy body provocative hairstyle and librarian's glasses brilliant mind. Phwoar. What a babe.

Perhaps he could even pick up some communication tips from this Ice-Princess of the North. After all, her speeches were so articulate. The interview with Katie Couric! Almost the same as his own brilliant memos out of Paris! A few confusions here and there, but for the most part, totally comprehensible if you already know what the message is meant to be.
Or if you have a very able interpreter at your side.

But sadly, sadly, he will not be able to visit the gorgeous hockey-mom of Wasilla, because The Company has arranged something even better for his entertainment. As if that's even possible, but whatever. He's not complaining, not about an all-expenses paid trip to North America.

It is a just reward for all the stress he's been through lately. It's not easy, you know, to reorganise a complex bureaucracy, to cut heads and to try to undermine the morale of all the non-French employees at the same time. Of course, those poor miserable sods, they cannot help this, that they are not French, and able to benefit from France's ridiculously self-protective labor laws culture and sophistication.

But again, tant pis. C'est la vie, as we love to say in la France.
Not all people on the planet can count themselves as members of such a superior race.

So yes, he will go fishing for the delicious salmon
that are so prevalent in the cold, clear streams of Alaska.

He will catch many big fish, take wonderful photographs,
and all his French executive buddies will be so so envious of his good fortune.

Please carry on, expateek.

Ummm, well. The French boss of the bad news takes a flight from Paris to Chicago, where he connects and flies to Anchorage, Alaska. A local Alaska Air flight brings him to the small outpost of Bethel. From here he flies on to Aniak, and he then hops into a small seaplane that takes him to his destination, a distant lake far out in the beautiful Alaskan wilderness.

Far from home, far from those kvetching underlings who are never satisfied with their miserable little lives. Here, he can forget about all those hundreds of Power Point presentations that he has requested to be ready for the 5th of January. Someone (or many "someone"s) will be working over the Christmas holidays, but it will not be him! He can put all this out of his mind, and relax.

Ahhhh. He gets out his fishing pole and settles in on the snowy bank. Smell that fresh air! The scent of pine! So invigorating after all the dog poo in Paris! Although some wild animals would be a nice change from those poxy little pooches in France. Yip yip yip. It's enough to drive one to absinthe, yes?

Look! He can see the salmon swimming in the clear water!

Quelle miracle! If he were to die on this very day, he could now die happy, after seeing such wondrous wild life. Of course, he will not die today, because he has those PowerPoint slides to look at after the holidays, but no matter! Today is a day to experience Nature.

Hah, yes. Fishing is wonderful, but it can sometimes be a bit boring.
Especially when you are the smartest human being on the planet,
with a brain so intelligent that no one can fully comprehend its brilliance.
Ah well.

Mmmm. So relaxing.

That's funny. I hear something.

What could it be?

A slight crunch of snow, a soft footfall in the powder?

No. Of course not! Imagination! Such a powerful thing, no?

Ha ha, is that you sneaking up behind me, Fishing Guide?
These Alaskans! Such pranksters!
I won't even be startled when...


RRRRROWWWWWRRRRRRRRRRRR!



Argggghhhhhhh!!! Aaaaiiiieeeeeeee!

Non! Please! S'il vous plait!
Mon Dieu, bears have such bad breath!
Aaaaiiiieeeeeeee!

Fin

.....

Oh for heaven's sake, expateek, you've done it again. Didn't we talk about homicidal fantasties? Didn't you say you were going to try to make an effort to work through your problems in a slightly different way today?

But Dr. Owl, I have made an adjustment. I have created a moral for the story. Don't you want to hear it?

Hmmm. I suppose. Go ahead, expateek.

Okay, well, here goes.

If you give a bear a fish, he eats for a day.

If you teach a bear to fish,

he eats for a lifetime.

Right, Dr. Owl?

Somehow, expateek, that seems slightly inappropriate and not particularly relevant. A bit of a reach, really. However, our time is up for today, so I guess we'll have to leave it there. I'll see you tomorrow at 11am.


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