Two very successful psychoanalysts occupied offices in the same building. One was 40 years old, the other over 70.
They rode on the elevator together at the end of an unbearably hot, sticky day. The younger man was completely done in, and he noted with some resentment that his senior was fresh and relaxed.
"I don't understand," he marveled, "how you can listen to patients from morning till night on a day like this and still look so spry and unbothered when it's over?"
The older analyst said simply, "Who listens?"
"Doctor!" said the woman as she loudly bounced into the room, "I want you to tell me very frankly what's wrong with me?"
He surveyed her from head to foot. "Madam," he said at length, "I've just three things to tell you. First, you need to lose at least twenty pounds. Second, you should use about half as much rouge and lipstick. And third, I'm an artist - the doctor's office is on the next floor."