Getting Ansy With Crazies

From a very old and discontinued blog o' mine.... this entry from a few years ago on this day.

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Speaking of crazies, I had one roll into my office yesterday around quitting time. I was at my desk and heard a suspicious clunk from a piece of shit car. The car I heard seemingly coughed and died right in the middle of the street, setting into motion the driver freaking out. He sat in there pounding the steering wheel furiously, and all I was thinking is “Please don’t come in here.”

Like magic his head turned the direction of my building and sure as shit he got out to come in here. Claims Lady was at my desk, saw him coming and split like a chicken neck. Bitch!

He came inside, crazed and almost to the point of speaking in tongues.

“Blehoudofudohuh!”
“I’m sorry?”
“difoufd!!!!!” frantic flaps of arms and wild eyes.
“Uh…”
“Phone!”

My first thought was to tell him to get the fuck out here, we have no drugs. My smarter brain reminded me that it’s not wise to further agitate a crazy.

“Phone, yeah sure…. It’s not long distance is it?”

Damn my smarter brain for failing me on that. The man could Jet Li style hop over my desk and slit my throat and I’m asking if it’s long distance?

“I mean, fuck man call China if you want to.” As I slid the phone to him.

He starts frisking himself almost violently, then grabs his hair with both hands and screams “FUUUUUUCK!!! Fuck Fuck!!”

I retreated promptly. He babbled that the number was in his car and that he would retrieve it and come back.

“The welfare, I have to call the welfare office for us. We need to call.”

I wasn’t sure who WE was, but it mimicked a Gollum conversation. He dug around in the back of his car for five minutes, presumably for a gun to shoot the smart ass bitch who’d sassed him, but returned only with a slice of paper. By then I was all but blocking the entrance to my side of the building, and pointed him to a phone on the other side. Go be crazy somewhere else buddy.

No such luck as he came right back over to me. I visibly did the body language of Damn!

“Can you like help me push it out of the street?”

Gee let me think. Grime up my work clothes for a nutty stranger hopped up on something or decline. Also consider that he asked a 100 pound person to move a thousand pound ball of dead metal. Right.

“No, we are all ladies here… we couldn’t uh..”
“FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!” when he screamed that, I mean he REALLY was screaming it.

“What am I gonna do, what to do, do do.”

I just sat there staring at him, for once in my life at a loss for words. I make the mistake of being a bitch to potentially dangerous strangers too often, I wasn’t going to do this now.

The last time I did I had been outside when a man in a turban rolled up in an unmarked van asking where the post office was. Yeah. That is the best time to smile and be as un-American as possible right? Not me.

“It’s… I don’t know…. That way.” I said and pointed.
“Do you know the road?”
“No, it’s just… look man turn around hang a right, go two stop lights and left. Cant miss the fucking thing ok?”

He looked at me like I was the biggest cunt in the world. That’s when the full scope of the situation hit me.

So.

If car dude wanted to lose his mind, that was fine with me. Some other things shook down but I didn’t hang around to see anymore. As I drove off I saw him walking towards me, and although I thought I was slick in locking my door and slamming it into reverse, I am quite certain he saw that little maneuver.

Today the car is across from my lot in a nice little tow zone. I’m curious to see how this story ends.

-DM