ABSTRACT
I open the door to usher in the rst patient I am seeing in my Boca Raton oce. It is only my therapeutic training that allows me to not react when I see Andrea, the woman sitting there. I have never seen anyone who looks more like a Barbie doll: teased blond hair piled high on her head, incredibly long false eyelashes, gobs of blue and green and brown eye shadow, thinly shaped eyebrows, and red-red lipstick. As she stands I see that she has huge breasts and an extremely narrow waist. I note her appraising me as I gesture her into the chair across from me.
