Getting called into the program director's office is almost never a good thing. I had received a page from Dr. Mann earlier in the day asking if I had time to meet. The answer, of course, was 'no' but we had a mutual understanding that I'd find a way to make time. Despite his ebullient charm, outstanding interpersonal skills and overall casual demeanor, Dr. Mann stands 6'4" and can be an imposing figure.
"You're probably wondering why I asked you here," Dr. Mann smiled and gestured toward the chair in which I promptly sat. He was correct in that I did not know the exact reason for my summons. I wondered which of my many transgressions it was over the past month that had come to our program director's attention. I feared some more than others. "I just wanted to give you some feedback," he continued. I already didn't like where this was going. 'Feedback,' in this setting, translates to 'made aware of a situation in which you fucked up.' I could be assured, at least, that I wasn't there to be given 'constructive criticism' which translates to, 'made aware of a situation in which you fucked up royally.' He continued. "Maggie, our psychology intern, came to me the other day after her standardized patient session with you. She shared with me that, during your feedback session with her, she got the impression that you were looking up her skirt."
This I had absolutely not seen coming. "Looking up her skirt?" I repeated dumbly.
"She felt like you were distracted and not paying attention to the feedback she was giving you. She felt that even when she crossed her legs and shifted to the side, you were still not listening." This was absolutely true, of course. I didn't know Maggie well enough to definitively classify her as a 'bimbo,' but her "feedback" had certainly been less than enlightening. That glimpse of her underwear had been the only thing that had made the afternoon worthwhile.
"Well, gosh Dr. Mann. I'm sorry she got that impression. I certainly wasn't aware of looking up her skirt, or seeing anything that I wasn't supposed to see. Also...I'm sorry, who's Maggie again?"
We discussed the situation for about 15 minutes, me all the while breathing an internal sigh of relief that this was the reason for the meeting and not something more egregious. I agreed to meet with Maggie and apologize for making her feel uncomfortable. I hoped she would be wearing the same outfit as last time.

