Why Do Crazy People Talk To Me?


Do crazy people attract more crazy people? Honestly, I’d like to know. Here I am, minding my own business at the local coffee joint when this woman would not shut up. “Wow, your charger is really long,” she said as I plugged my computer charger into the outlet. I smiled and she went into this rant about how her charger is not long enough and this bitch wouldn’t let her sit at the table closest to the outlet. Not one to ignore gossip, I asked her about the bitch with a bad bowl cut giving me the stink eye.

Wow, these regulars truly have a lot of beef. “She’s jealous because I’m prettier than her,” the crazy woman said. This made me chuckle for two reasons. One. She looked a bit like the Queen when she turned into a hag. But this was only because she was like sixty-years old and she still looked prettier than the stink-eye girl with the bowl-cut. I think that if she’d let us we could make her into an old-six, easy. Two. I make comments like that constantly. Was this crazy-lady a reflection of what I might be in forty-years if I neglect sunblock, hair-care, and marry a janitor? Jarring. But enough to inspire me to get my shit together.

Crazy lady was very entertaining and she wouldn’t stop handing me compliments. “Your skin is amazing,” Really? This is the worst my skin has ever looked. I had seriously considered not leaving my house today in an attempt to shield the world from the very large white zit on my chin. Where’s your dermatologist with his set of cortisol shots when you need him?

Ultimately, after the crazy lady had tried to pass notes to me in a way nostalgic middle-school gossiper-way. I pretended not to be able to understand her and kept saying “what” progressively louder until she got the hint. Even crazy people have social grace. “I’m so sorry but I’m in the middle of something,” I told her, and she retreated back into her corner between crazy and deranged.

But it left me thinking. Aren’t we all a little mad?




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