Welcome to the World, Baby Girl!

The Verdict Comes In

New York City

1976

Dr. Diggers knew that Dena had been out with Gerry; however Dena had said nothing about it. But today, as Dr. Diggers went down the hall with her to the door, Dena said offhandedly, “Oh, by the way, did I tell you that Dr. O’Malley, who recommended you, called me?”

“No,” she said. “I don’t believe you mentioned it.”

Dena got her coat from the closet. “Anyhow, I went out with him a couple of times. But he doesn’t say much of anything. All he does is sit there and stare at me and drop things. He’s so nervous, he sort of makes me nervous.”

Oh, dear.

Dena put on her coat. “Do you know anything about him?”

“All I can tell you is he is extremely well thought of, personally and professionally.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s a great guy and all. He’s cute but I guess just not my type. You know, he’s … well, he’s sort of dull.”

“Dull? Gerry O’Malley?”

“At least he is to me. I guess we just don’t have anything in common. He doesn’t even watch television.”

“I see.”

“He’s nice but there’s no point in leading him on.”

“No, I guess not.”

After Dena left, Dr. Diggers wondered how long it would be before she would be hearing from Gerry. It was exactly three weeks and one day.

Dena had turned down date after date with Gerry and he was baffled. “I know you can’t get in the middle of this but she seemed to like me. We had dinner, went to a couple of shows, but all of a sudden she stopped seeing me and I don’t understand what happened. It seemed to be going great. I was a gentleman, I didn’t push myself on her, I wanted her to have some time to get to know me a little better. I don’t think I said anything out of line, I let her do most of the talking. I just don’t get it. I was feeling pretty good, actually; the last time I saw her she even gave me a little kiss good night at the door. She wouldn’t do that if she hated me, would she? Maybe she’s seeing another guy.”

Diggers listened to him go on and on for another twenty minutes. Finally, she had to put him out of his misery. There was no other way. “Gerry, she thinks you’re dull.”

Gerry was taken aback. “Dull?”

“Dull.”

“Oh, du—?”

“Dull.”

“The only reason I’m telling you this is because she mentioned it out of session so I’m not betraying patient-doctor privilege. But there it is.”

“That’s all she said?”

“Gerry, don’t forget: she doesn’t know you. You are the last person in the world I would call dull. Does she know anything about you at all?”

“No, not much. But what am I going to do, sit there and talk about myself? Give her a résumé? Oh, Christ, Liz, maybe I am dull.”

Elizabeth Diggers could have kicked herself for ever getting in the middle of this.

“Gerry, am I going to have to put you back in analysis? What happened to my Mr. Personality Party Boy? You’re one of the funniest, most interesting people I know. Tell her about yourself. Now, get with it, boy.”

Gerry hung up the phone, wracked his brain, but one word kept playing over and over in his head. Even the clock seemed to be ticking dull … dull … dull. He put his jacket on and his lucky red baseball cap. The first thing he was going to do was buy a television set.