Bob’s spouse threatens him with a divorce if he doesn’t search assist for his obsession with tractors.
He loves tractors. He has tractor-branded t-shirts, ties, socks, luggage, glassware, posters, and a number of subscriptions to varied tractor magazines. You identify it, he’s received it.
Fearing dropping his spouse to his love of tractors he decides to hunt assist.
After a couple of actually constructive classes along with his psychiatrist, he’s deemed to be utterly over his love of tractors and believes his marriage is now saved. Hurrah!
Shaking his psychiatrist’s hand, he thanks them for every thing they’ve executed for him over the previous few months.
The psychiatrist tells him to talk to the receptionist on his approach out to pay his closing invoice, and expresses their satisfaction in how a lot they’ve completed of their time collectively.
Bob steps out of the psychiatrist’s workplace and is greeted by an unlimited plume of cigarette smoke enveloping the complete reception space.
The cigarette smoker, noticing Bob’s disgust on the odor, apologizes and instantly stubs out the cigarette.
“To not fear!” exclaims Bob, “I’ll type this out”
Bob then takes an enormous inhale, sucking up each single cigarette particle from the reception space till the air is evident and smoke-free.
He then walks over to the window, opens it up a crack and blows the stale cigarette fumes outdoors in a single large exhale.
“How on earth did you do this?!” asks the cigarette smoker.
“Oh that’s straightforward” says Bob, “I’m an extractor fan”