Mr. Trexler, a New Yorker, is an unenthusiastic psychiatric patient. Plagued by what he claims are the dullest set of neurotic symptoms in the world, he suffers from dizziness, pains in the back of the neck, apprehension, tightness in the scalp, anger and anxiety over his inability to concentrate or work, pressure, tension, and gas in the stomach.
Trexler’s relationship with his doctor is uneasy from the start. The doctor’s initial question, asking if he has ever had any bizarre thoughts, unnerves Trexler. As one who has had nothing but bizarre thoughts since he was a young boy, Trexler feels cornered. Unable to choose an appropriate bizarre thought to share, Trexler lies that he has never had them.
After what seems to Trexler like an interminable length of time, the session draws to a close. The doctor shakes his hand and, with a smile, assures him there is nothing wrong with him: He is just scared. The doctor knows this because of the way that Trexler kept inching away from him in his chair when he asked him questions. Trexler politely feigns acceptance of this assessment and exits.
Despite his ambivalence, Trexler continues to see the doctor. After several weeks, he notices that their time together takes on a pattern. Trexler begins by recounting his symptoms, which persist unabated, and the doctor listens attentively. The doctor then asks if he has found anything that brings relief. Trexler answers that a drink helps, and the doctor nods his understanding.
(The entire section is 625 words.)