Finding Our Husbands

Trish was the only person locked down in the psychiatric ward who didn’t smoke. She spent her long, medicated hours imagining that her ‘future husband’ was going to stop by and pay her a visit in the hospital.

She didn’t want to be outside with the smokers if he dropped in to propose.

I was only in the hospital for a severe case of restless leg syndrome. I wandered up and down the hallways because I simply couldn’t set still. The medications were far worse than electro- shock therapy and the drugs caused my body to feel incredibly rigid and tense.

Walking helped.

Each time I passed by Trish’s room she looked up from her bed and smiled at me as if I may be her long awaited future husband.

In my delusion, I imagined Trish was trying to convert me to a heterosexual.

At the end of the hall, Jose, a very cute psychotic Latino guy slept around the clock. I’m not sure what kind of drugs they force fed him, but the poor lad could hardly get out of his bed to join the rest of modern day society for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Jose checked into the Hotel California a few days after I did. He was manic and doing some very outlandish things. Medical authorities insist that delusional people like Jose sometimes suffer from a grandiose sexual drive. I agree with the authorities.

One evening I strolled by Jose’s room with my restless legs and he took out his pecker. I swear, if I were not suffering from Restless Leg Syndrome, I would have fallen to my knees and offered the mentally ill guy some head.

I must have passed Trish and Jose’s doorways several hundred times over the course of my three week stint in physical therapy.

Trish had a takedown one night. She refused to take her medications and was acting out. Guards tackled her to the floor and accidentally slammed her big head through the dry wall above her bed.

It angers me when those who have yet to see the light treat those who live in imaginary worlds like ugly girls with little tits.

I paid Trish a visit in her room after they finally unchained her from her bed. “Are you my husband?” she asked.

“No silly! I’m gay. Can’t you see that? Now snap out of it!”

Trish was released the next day and I was finally moved into the room next to Jose.