I am a counselor at a prison. My boss is a principle. I go to his office. He's a nice enough guy. He has two knickknack shelves. One holds five pots of coffee, the coffee can being part of the pot. Each one is brewing. The other shelf has red glass vases and pitchers and pretties. It's probably his wife's stuff that there wasn't enough room at home to show. I realize he doesn't even offer me a cup of coffee, which is a good thing because I don't like coffee, but it is a bit insensitive. It's time for me to meet (written "meat") my two very fat counselees. I am dressed pretty, but change into glasses, a big sweater to disguise my womanness so I won't distract them. It doesn't work, of course. My course of therapy is to have them swim, and we talk about their pain. They don't open up to it easily. They are hardened criminals.