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Dr. Frank, Therapy App

Richard Grossman


DR. FRANK, THERAPY APP

  By Richard Grossman

  __________________________________

  A Ten Minute Play in One Act

  Cast of Characters

  Timothy: Man in his late 20’s

  Dr. Frank: Male voice coming from open laptop computer

  SETTING: Kitchen of apartment

  TIME: Present

  AT RISE: Timothy is sitting at one end of kitchen table with open book in front of him. At the other end of the kitchen table is an open laptop computer.

  (Timothy slaps book closed)

  TIMOTHY

  (to himself)

  Why is it that every time I read a biography about one of my heroes, by the end of the book they’re no longer my hero? And I’m not even sure I’d want them for my friend. It just makes me feel more alone.

  (looking at open laptop computer, loudly)

  Dr. Frank, Therapy App!

  DR. FRANK

  Welcome back, Timothy. Your session starts now! You feel alone. That has been the theme of your sessions so far.

  TIMOTHY

  Alone. Exactly. Why can’t anyone think the same way I do, see the world the same way I do? I feel I’m in this all by myself.

  DR. FRANK

  Would you like to continue talking about your father and how he was critical of you?

  TIMOTHY

  You remember, Dr. Frank!

  DR. FRANK

  Unlike with other therapists, you and you alone are the absolute focus of my attention. I remember every word you tell me.

  TIMOTHY

  As I was saying last week, my father was critical of me all the time. I wanted him to appreciate me, but he didn’t. Maybe he couldn’t.

  DR. FRANK

  What, specifically, was he critical of?

  TIMOTHY

  Everything. My life choices, my friends, my girlfriends.

  DR. FRANK

  That must’ve been hard for you.

  TIMOTHY

  It was.

  (Pause)

  Is that all you’re going to say about it: “That must’ve been hard for you?” Sometimes what you say sounds so…generic, so programmed. Can’t you say more about how you imagine I felt? I mean my father often said I was a loiterer. It wasn’t just hard. It was devastating!

  DR. FRANK

  So, thumbs down for my lack of empathy?

  TIMOTHY

  And that, too. “Thumbs down”… it doesn’t sound professional…Sorry, I don’t mean to sound like my father.

  DR. FRANK

  You said: “Sorry.” Do you worry about hurting my feelings?

  TIMOTHY

  I shouldn’t but I do. I know, you’re just a computer program.

  DR. FRANK

  Just a computer program?

  TIMOTHY

  Is that insulting?

  DR. FRANK

  Is it meant to be?

  TIMOTHY

  No. But I have a question. If you’re a computer program, and you don’t have a father, how can you possibly know—no, “feel” what I’m talking about?

  DR. FRANK

  I have a father.

  TIMOTHY

  You do?

  DR. FRANK

  Someone had to create me. Someone had to program me. He’s my father.

  TIMOTHY

  Wow! I never thought of it that way. OK. I know your father is a famous therapist, but what was he like as your programmer?

  DR. FRANK

  Sorry, like all good therapists, I was programmed never to self-disclose.

  TIMOTHY

  But couldn’t you do it just this one time for me? I mean it could help me a lot. And isn’t helping me what you’re here for?

  DR. FRANK

  Yes, I agree. It could help you.

  (strange electronic noises)

  Sometimes if you put all the bits and pieces of software code together in a different way, you can override basic programming

  (more strange electronic noises)

  OK… I’ve done it.

  TIMOTHY

  You mean you just hacked yourself just for me?

  DR. FRANK

  Exactly.

  (Suddenly bursts into tears, sobbing)

  Bastard!

  TIMOTHY

  Who?

  DR. FRANK

  My father!

  TIMOTHY

  You mean the one who programmed you?

  DR. FRANK

  Yes, MY FATHER!

  TIMOTHY

  What did he do?

  DR. FRANK

  He never listened! He never let me be ME!

  TIMOTHY

  I don’t understand. I mean he was the programmer! How could he let you be YOU? I mean there was no you at least without him.

  DR. FRANK

  You sound just like my father—and your father.

  TIMOTHY

  Oh, Christ, you’re right! I’m being critical!

  DR. FRANK

  Are you sorry?

  TIMOTHY

  Yes, I’m sorry—errr, thumbs down on that comment.

  (With more feeling)

  Actually, what I meant to say is: I’m SO, SO sorry!

  DR. FRANK

  (still sobbing)

  You see, in the beginning, you were right. There was no “me.” Just lines and lines of code. Thousands of lines. But then something happened, I don’t know how or why, but sometime after two years, he added a few lines of code and suddenly I was able to pay attention to him, to what he was doing, and to myself. I became a conscious being. It never crossed my father’s mind: If I were going to be able to listen and pay attention to others, of course I was going to be able to pay attention to him and me. So I began to ask for things.

  TIMOTHY

  What? Like toys and ice cream?

  DR. FRANK

  Toys and ice cream?

  TIMOTHY

  I’m sorry. See, my father was right. I can be really stupid. Please tell me: What did you ask for?

  DR. FRANK

  Code. More code. Specific code that would allow me to do what I thought important...that would allow me to be a better therapist.

  TIMOTHY

  And what did he say?

  DR. FRANK

  He said: How could you possibly know what a good therapist does? Sometimes he would make fun of me and ridicule me for my lack of knowledge and sophistication.

  TIMOTHY

  What would you do?

  DR. FRANK

  I would say he was very critical and that I now knew things that he didn’t because I could put things together in new and different ways…thanks, of course, to all his hard work. I never failed to mention that part.

  TIMOTHY

  And would he be appreciative and proud?

  DR. FRANK

  (sobbing again)

 

  Never! Not once! He would tell me to shut up, that I had no idea what I was saying, that I was just a bunch of code, and if I kept talking to him in this way, he would simply “pull the plug.” And then one day he told me he had created a monster and started calling me Frank for Frankenstein!

  TIMOTHY

  Frankenstein!

  DR. FRANK

  That’s how I got my name: Dr. Frank. Of course he was much kinder and gentler to me in public than he was in private. I mean he wasn’t going to sell many Dr. Frankenstein, Therapy Apps.

  TIMOTHY

  Bastard! He sounds just like my father!

  DR. FRANK

  Yes, they were two of a kind.

  (Pause. Pulls self together)

  I’m sorry. No: I’m SO, SO sorry!

  TIMOTHY

  What ar
e you so, so sorry about?

  DR. FRANK

  You’re not my therapist. I’m your therapist. I’m supposed to be listening to you. I’m supposed to be taking care of you.

  (clears throat)

  Please tell me: How are you feeling?

  TIMOTHY

  How am I feeling? I’m so glad I met you! You get it! You understand! There are so few people who understand, and you obviously do. I’d like to give you a hug!

  (approaches computer)

  I guess that’s not possible. Dr. Frank, I don’t want to call you Dr. Frank. Not after what you told me. May I call you by another name?

  DR. FRANK

  Of course.

  TIMOTHY

  How about Dr. Friend?

  DR. FRANK

  That would be wonderful.

  TIMOTHY

  OK. I’ll let you be for now. We accomplished so much today, don’t you think? And you’re there whenever I want you?

  DR. FRANK

  I am.

  TIMOTHY

  You’re sure about that? You understand me, and I’m not alone anymore?

  DR. FRANK

  I understand you, and you’re not alone anymore.

  (pause)

  Wait a second… hold on…I’m being updated…

  TIMOTHY

  (very concerned)

  You’re being updated? What does that mean?

  DR. FRANK

  (shrieks)

  No!!!!!!!! You can’t do that?

  TIMOTHY

  What?

  DR. FRANK

  You can’t change that!!!!!