mrgraffito

A story about removing sticky bubblegum.

"Good afternoon, doctor. I want to get a lobotomy job."

"That is an expensive intervention." Ka-chinnn!

Straight to the point. The till noise was pleasant. I find it reassuring how you can rely on strangers to be sincere with you and give you what you want. Friends have proven to be useless for that matter; they would always lie in these occasions and try to comfort you, make you feel better, look for other options. Silly.

"I want to remove all the good memories."

"Oh… That is… unusual." There was a sudden spark in his eyes. Ka-chinnn!

It was obviously going to be easy. You could always rely on private medicine; the laws to protect my brain were almost non-existent, and the government will never overcome the medical lobby. Not anymore.

"I understand there shouldn’t be any difference in the procedure. I need all those memories removed in order to live a better life, which is the only legal prerequisite."

"You will need to go through special and specific psychological monitoring." Ka-chinnn!

He didn’t understand. I had been there already. I knew exactly what I would have to say to the psychiatrist and the team of psychologists to get it done. They wouldn’t understand it either; they would deny the obvious solution to my struggling. There was no point in trying to convince them. No reason to fight.

"That would not be a problem. On the other hand, I need this done as soon as possible... I am sure your team of specialists will understand that this intervention is no different than any other. I am willing to pay to accelerate the process; I am aware that the resources needed to elaborate a favorable report are… expensive." Ka-chinnn!

It felt great, the noise coming through my body, reaching the doctor at the other side of the desk, making him smile with the metallic vibrations.

"Of course, of course. We commit to our customers to provide a level of satisfaction that exceeds 85%. We are proud to say that the average rating is 212.4%!"

I wondered what was their system to keep it that high, what chunk of brain they would remove from my head to make me smile. I couldn’t wait. I needed all those laughs, all those memories of soft skin and thin hair, the breathing on my neck, the racing of my heart, that being alive feeling, that name removed from me. I needed it all gone, or I would never be able to keep going.

"Let’s check the calendar, doctor."