The Barking Social Worker

This is one from my book. It happens after my sister dies and eleven days later my father dies.

The attorney Katie, who is my supervisor and close friend at that point, tells me she cannot believe I’m standing upright. “If I was you I would be sobbing uncontrollably with my head stuck in a bucket.”
She gets a chuckle out of me. “
Katie, that is maybe not one of the top ten helpful things to say.”
Katie changes the subject. “By the way Patricia barked at me today.”

Patricia is a child protective services worker. Her regular hairdo is similar to Albert Einstein except it’s black not white. Based on my interaction with Patricia I believe she’s performing her job off her meds. Either that or Patricia does not realize she needs meds.

Patricia is in the category of social workers who I would run away from if they tried to take my children. We would be engaged in a tug of war. “You are not taking my kids. Sorry, send someone else. Like the person that does not present like a lunatic.”
I ask Katie to elaborate about the barking.

“I was standing outside the courtroom waiting for our case to be called. Patricia walks up to me barking like a dog. I ask her what she is doing. She tells me I always bark orders at her so she is barking back at me.”

“Was it a chihuahua dog bark or a St. Bernard dog bark? Rabid Labrador? I need details.”

Katie turns to her desk photo of the actor Denis Leary. There’s a hand drawn bubble next to his head that says, “I just love that Katie.”

Katie says, “I cannot wait to get the fuck out of this crazy job. Denis Leary doesn’t know I exist but once he finds out I’ll be swept off my feet to the Hollywood Hills or a penthouse in Manhattan or – wherever he lives. Could be Durham, North Carolina for all I know. I don’t care where it is as long as I’m out of this joint and together with Denis Leary, happily ever after.

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