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// Date Forty-Three - Movie Scars 
// Story: Cheerilee's Thousand 
// by xjuggernaughtx 
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Sandy Shores checked her watch and silently thanked her old partner once again. They hadn’t seen eye to eye on very much, but one piece of his advice had served her well: Always seat the patient facing away. That way, they can’t tell how bored you are.
 
“We’ve been through this, Cheerilee. ‘Life’ is not out to get anypony. We are the products of our upbringing and of random circumstance. It’s unhealthy to—”
 
Reclined on a nearby couch, Cheerilee threw a hoof up. “And we keep going through it because nopony seems to understand! These things don’t just happen! It’s a… I don’t know! A conspiracy, or… or a plot or something!” Leaning on an elbow, Cheerilee whipped her head around. “I know how that sounds, but something is going on!”
 
Caught off guard, Sandy dropped her quill. Oh, here we go. She made sure to assume her most tolerant expression when she leaned back into her plush office chair. “I know it feels that way, Cheerilee, but it’s very common to see oneself at the center of random events. It’s our way of making sense of the senseless.”
 
Cheerilee slowly shook her head. “Forty-three. Nopony has forty-three terrible dates in a row. It just doesn’t happen!”
 
Sandy sighed and wished she were at the beach again. Why didn’t I listen to my dad? she thought, doodling in her notebook. ‘Who wants to work on a stinky old boat?’ I said. ‘I want to be a therapist and actually help ponies!’ I said. What an idiot… She’s been coming here for months and she’s as stubbornly attached to this delusion as she’s ever been.
 
“—an explanation?”
 
Sandy shook herself. “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that? I missed it.”
 
Cheerilee half-turned, catching Sandy with her eye. “I asked if you had an explanation, because I’m at a loss.”
 
Sandy fought to keep her expression neutral. What she really wanted was to shout and to throw things at the wall. It was like being lost in a cavern and finding yourself in the same passage over and over. You’d think you’d found the way out, only to see your hoofprints in the dust. “Tell me about your last encounter and we’ll see if we can figure this out together,” she said reluctantly
 
Cheerilee flopped back down onto the couch. “Well, I met this really nice stallion named Loop. He’s a jeweler.”
 
Imagine that. Sandy scribbled the name on her mostly blank notepad. “And how did that make you feel?”
 
“What? His name?”
 
Sandy underlined the notation. “Uh… sure.”
 
“I didn’t feel one way or the other about his name. It suited him, I guess.”
 
“Mmmm. Interesting.”
 
“Anyway,” Cheerilee continued after a moment’s silence, “I bumped into him at the library and one thing led to another. All of a sudden, he was asking me out to the movies.”
 
Sandy stifled a yawn. “And how do the movies make you feel?”
 
“I don’t see what—” Cheerilee took a deep breath. “I like going to the movies. At least there everything always seems to work out in the end.”
 
“Mmmm. Interesting.”
 
“So we met up in the lobby and got our seats.” Cheerilee fidgeted. “I should have known it was going too well. He was really cute and a great conversationalist. I was actually a little upset when the movie started because we’d been having this great discussion about the pros and cons of Equestria’s governmental structure, but we had to cut it off. It always seems like…”
 
Seagulls. Sandy half-closed her eyes and imagined she could see gulls wheeling lazily overhead. She was warm, and the sand shifted under her hooves slightly as she labored through it. Despite the effort, she was grinning. The salt air invigorated her, and the light breeze—
 
“Are you listening?”
 
Sandy jumped, dropping her quill again. Cheerilee was eyeing her suspiciously. “Ah, sorry. I was just thinking about how much I like government, too.”
 
Cheerilee squinted at her therapist for several seconds before continuing. “Anyway, we’d been watching the film for an hour or so when Loop decided that he wanted some popcorn. It didn’t take him too long, but then…”
 
Despite herself, Sandy cocked an ear toward her patient. “And then what?”
 
Cheerilee let out a lengthy sigh. “I knew it was going too well. Loop came back, but, well, he was awfully...” Poking up above the couch, Cheerilee’s ears turned bright red. “...frisky.”
 
Sandy uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. “Frisky?”
 
“Yeah. He sat back down and, um, he was kind of all over me. First our hooves kept touching in the popcorn bucket, and then he leaned over and just laid one right on me.”
 
“And how did having one laid on you make you feel?”
 
Cheerilee’s hooves twisted around each other. “Um… wanted. Guilty. Unsure. Excited.”
 
“Mmmm! Interesting!” Sandy jotted more down in her notebook. “But while this sounds a little forward, it doesn’t exactly sound bad.”
 
Cheerilee covered her eyes with her hooves. “We were making out like yearlings! I mean, really going at it. He had his hoof all twined up in my mane, you know, kind of pulling it. I, um, used a lot of tongue.”
 
Sandy tapped the notebook with her quill a few times. “… And?”
 
“It’s just that it was so dark in there!”
 
Sandy blinked. “What does that have to do with anything?”
 
“Well,” Cheerilee replied with a loud swallow, “the lights finally came up and I just screamed! A-and I slapped him!”
 
Sandy’s eyes bulged. “What? Cheerilee, that’s not reasonable—”
 
“It was Filthy Rich!”
 
The statement hung in the air between them. Finally, Sandy removed her glasses and cleaned them with a soft cloth she kept in her desk. “Could we go over this again? I’m afraid you’ve lost me.”
 
Cheerilee’s clutched the sides of her head and moaned. “I’m not even sure that I have it right. There was a lot of yelling and hoof-pointing going on.”
 
“Just take your time and do your best,” Sandy replied in her most understanding voice. “If it helps, think of something relaxing for a few minutes. Perhaps the beach. Or ocean waves.”
 
Cheerilee took a deep breath. “After the screaming and… um, the slapping, I turned around to see Loop in the row behind us with some sleek model-type. I guess Filthy and his date sat behind us, and then when Loop went to get popcorn, Filthy did, too.” Cheerilee covered her face with a pillow. “Oh, it was so dark in there!”
 
Sandy’s quill hovered above the page. She had no idea what to write about this one. “Uh, so how did all of that make you feel?”
 
Cheerilee sat up and threw her hooved up over her head. “How do you think it made me feel? I was making out with a stallion that I despise while my date waltzes off with some knockout because ‘She seems a little more into him!’ Filthy’s yelling at me about lawsuits, and then yelling at Loop for date-theft, and then yelling at his date that he wants a refund! Meanwhile, the other patrons went to go get more popcorn so that they could sit back down to watch us fight. Ugh!” She fell back onto the couch with a thud. “What a nightmare. It’s a curse. It’s the only explanation.”
 
Sandy checked her watched again. Five minutes? How can it only have been five minutes? As she watched, the minute hand ticked over. “Just thirty-two to go now.”
 
“What?” Cheerilee said, twisting her head around.
 
“Nothing!” Sandy replied, tearing her eyes from her watch. “Please continue.”
 
“Well, doesn’t it sound like a curse to you?” Cheerilee reclined again, folding her hooves on her stomach. “I’ve spoken to Twilight about it three times, but she acts so funny around me these days. And Zecora has asked me not to tromp through Everfree again, so I can only catch her at the market. I’ve read every book at the library, and I think…”
 
I should have listened to my dad, Sandy thought again, drawing a seagull soaring over a sailboat. The open ocean. The salt air. Just me and the sea. She checked her watch again, adding “So how did that make you feel?” when Cheerilee took a breath. Cheerilee’s reply was lost in the waves Sandy was adding beneath her sailboat. Why didn't I listen to my dad?