As Judy finished her day and looked over her notes, she read through Ben's a second and third time and closed the distinctive red leather holder with the antique gold corners and shook her head. Of all the people she sees, Ben defies pigeon holing more than any other. He knew that I wrote Bargains and he knew that jerking me off with those fabricated, devious faux webtrash efforts would rotate my tennis bracelet, yet he did that anyway. I never should have tipped my hand that the main thing that matters with all my patients is that they continue to come back to me. Now I bet he's going to call me and tell me he's ending our professional relationship. Let me think - should I get Jenny to put together web responses to all those bogus sites? No, he'd do Ben 2.0 on me. Should I just be out front and tell him I'm J J Dallcondine and never mentioned that because I wanted him to get my messages therein knowing he'd blow them off if he knew they were mine? No, here's the best approach - I make sure he comes back at least one more time even if under the guise of an exit session at no charge. I'll move my pottery wheel into the office by the window and I'll wear the overalls with a poor boy non-top and he'll want to spend an hour with me gladly. Ben may be crafty and clever but he's neutralized by femine performance centered on flaunting. Judy, you $210 an hour slut. You're supposed to be helping Ben . . . but then again, maybe this is what he needs.