For all his exceptional looks, intelligence, and abilities, 28-year-old Bryce Rodman had had a checkered history with the therapists he'd worked with, until he finally found one smart enough to understand him.
"I wouldn't say it's rocket science, but it is Rodman science," quipped Rodman, bemoaning the fact that all his past shrinks had been too dumb to get where he was coming from. "Finally someone sees me for who I am."
That person, Rodman explained, is Angela Markham, a psychotherapist practicing on Manhattan's Upper East Side.
"When she found out where I came from and how much money I've made, I could see it click in her head that she was dealing with a person of brilliance," said Rodman. "She instantly comprehended the amount of rage I have to manage on a daily basis, dealing with a world of base mediocrity. And she was determined to help me, no matter what the cost."
On his part, Rodman fully understood, of course, that because navigating the mind of such a unique human specimen as himself would require a much higher level of expertise than that called for with Dr. Markham's less extraordinary clients, she would need to charge him quadruple her regular hourly rate. Fortunately, given the pressing nature of his issues, Dr. Markham offered to juggle her schedule so as to be able to work Rodman for two hours a day, five days per week, for at least four years, or until her youngest daughter finished her undergraduate degree at Columbia University.
Rodman emphasized that he has no illusions about the monumentality of the task he and Dr. Markham have before them. "She said she'd never seen a case as severe as mine. And given the immense hardships.and inconveniences that have been inflicted on me, progress will likely be very slow, meaning that the cost will likely be substantial."
He shook his head, a steely glint appearing in his eyes. "But how can I put a price on focusing on myself? I owe myself that much. And at the end of the day, I'm worth it."