“Hello, friend, it’s me, CRAZY! Yeah, CRAZY! So good to hear your voice.”
 

It started about a year ago. I noticed one, here and there, but nothing to get worked up about. I’d be walking with my headphones on, my mind in the clouds, my feet stomping quickly, and then I’d see one. I’d stop, frozen in my tracks. I’d take a step back to guage the situation and decide whether it was safe to proceed. I’d start to walk forward again, with hesitant steps this time, ready to bolt quickly to the side if invasive maneuvers became necessary.

People who talk to themselves on the street are often insane. Taking into account a personal anecdote involving a homeless woman and my little brother, sometimes these insane people will hit you.

There was this one guy I saw, very attractive, seated in front of the Burbank Barnes and Noble, grinning like a sexy Cheshire and staring directly at me. I was looking forward to passing him. Perhaps we’d share a flirty nod of the head, or maybe he’d say something to me as I passed by. He was perched cross legged on a low wall and it wasn’t until I was about twenty feet away that I noticed him talking wildly to himself. He was really animated. Really interested in what he had to say to himself. There was a brief moment where he gestured with his hands and the whole time he was staring right at me. He might speak to me, alright, but he might say something like, “Bananas are good for autoerotic love affairs and I like playing with my boogers, whoop-whoop-oh, boy!” right before reaching over to shiv me with the antique pen knife he fumbling in his hands.

I wondered why other people around him weren’t staring or nervously stepping away from him. Why was I the only person approaching him with dread?

Of course, as you’ve probably already guessed would happen, I then noticed the wire extending from his ear to his hands, where he was fiddling with a cell phone and not a murder weapon . This was the first time I’d seen such a demure headset, and I was relieved.

Then annoyed.

Then angry.

I can’t afford to confuse crazy people with phone users. I have to be on my guard when I’m walking around at 11:00 p.m. at night with my headphones on. I know that’s a dangerous thing to do, but I’m not giving it up, and I need the world to behave accordingly. I need to know that, even though I’m doing something unsafe by blocking out street noise, I can still count on my eyeballs to tell me when a person is a possible threat or not. And since the B&N incident, this happens all the time.

I see a person talking to himself and hurriedly walking toward me. He looks angry. He looks like he’s angry at me and he’s shaking his head and gesturing with jerking motoins and he’s obviously having some kind of demented internal dialogue out loud. I’ve little room to make my escape. Any moment now he’s going to slap me across the face and say, “I told you not to drink my milk! You promised me!” But then I notice that damned wire.

Again and again this happens, but still I will not assume they’re on the phone before I assume they’re insane. I tried that once and the phone user turned out to be completely bonkers. Lolled myself into a false sense of security on the bus seated next to someone who was rocking back and forth and speaking forcibly in Chinese, eyeballs darting around, looking like she wanted to napalm our transport. I smiled to myself and said, “Self, it’s just another headset cell phone user. Self, you really must get used to this sort of thing. Self, the world is a constantly changing place, and you’re constantly behind the times.”

It was only after everyone else near us moved to another area of the bus that I began to realize that I couldn’t actually see any wires. If there were wires, they were imbedded in her head, and she wasn’t just crazy, she was an insane cyborg lady!

The insane cyborg ladies are coming! The insane cyborg ladies are coming!

Nah. But, I continue presume that all people talking to themselves on the street are insane until proven otherwise. It's for my safety.

If we’re ever together, friends, and you see me giving you a “tu estas loco” look when all you’re doing is chatting with your brother Phil on the good ole cellular, please don’t be offended. I’m just trying to give my little world some semblance of order, and so far the invention of hands free cell phone equipment has greatly debilitated my once highly developed Crazy Person radar. I’m forced to assume the worst about all you hands free cell phone users, I’m afraid.

LOL! In a way, I sort of love that people think I'm crazy. Or, craziER.

How about the people who ARE crazy AND use hands free headsets?

Or what about people using blue-tooth ear pieces, where there isn't even a wire to distinguish them?

Scaaaaary.

I love that old commercial, I think it's for Southwest, where the guy says "I find you very attractive" and the girl says something like "me too" only, they guy is talking to someone on the phone. Cracks me up every time.

Yes, I failed to mention the recent improvement in hands free equipment, the blue-tooth. I have to work even harder now to keep myself safe.

So long as a crazy person is being crazy to their friend on the other end of the phone, I don't mind. Heck, I don't mind crazy people in general. If they are talking to me, at least. It's when they are talking to Invisibles that I get worried and approach with caution.

Do what I do, regardless of whether they're talking to themselves or not. Assume everyone is crazy, and give them a wide berth.

Why? Because believe me, it's the rather serene, sane-looking lady that totally loses it over the 50 cent overdue fine. Just a moment before she walked up to the desk you were thinking of complementing her blouse, but now, you really really wish she hadn't been born.

It's like how cops are always on their guard when they pull over a guy that ran a stop sign. You never know who's crazy and who's not.

You're a brave lady to walk the streets, and I salute you. ;)

Library smackdown over .50?

My goodness, I bet the librarian who pulls up my $150 fine will be on her guard. I'll be sure to keep my hands raised at all times, and I'll compliment her on *her* blouse, assuming it's a woman, and she's wearing a blouse.

I've always thought that cellphones were God's Gift to crazies. Now they are free to talk to themselves all the bright day long, as long as they keep one hand in a phoneholdular posture.


I have, for the past several years, taken to releasing my inner baglady and often go around the streets talking out loud to myself while holding my dead cellphone to my ear. It's priceless and I love it. There I go doing the most insane public thing I can think of other than peeing down my pantleg ... and everyone accepts it completely, the world never bats its collective eye.


I can't wait for the day when technology allows me to pee down my pantleg without getting noticed!

If she's not, I *definitely* want to know more about your library!

I'm pretending it's more interesting than it is. Though it is the Central Library in Downtown, so surely some unusual things happen there, and some unusual people work there.

LMFAO.

I talk to myself. I try to do this when I'm alone. Mostly I try to keep the monologue inside my own head. I was listening to my headphones on the subway and noticed a cute girl staring at me and smiling. I was thrilled that this adorable lesbian found me so attractive, but then I felt my throat moving, and realized that I'd been, for probably about 20 minutes, talking to myself. Because of my headphones I couldn't hear what I was saying. I have these internalized conversations but I must have started moving my lips, and then because I couldn't hear myself, I spoke up. I can't remember what I was saying or thinking, but I bet I was talking back and forth as if speaking to another person. And I'm pretty sure I looked insane. I do believe I gave her a horrified look of apology and shook my head, blushing madly.

OMG, we went to our library branch today just a few blocks from our house and Crazy Library Lady was sitting in the foyer, rocking, plastic bags at her feet, and reading a dictionary-like book out loud.

No phone. Just chanting and rocking.....everyday. The kids don't even notice her anymore. The only reason I gave her any notice is because I'd thought about starting a thread about her and any other local crazies out there.

For example, Doll Lady who used to carry these dirty dolls around town because (supposedly) her children died in a fire.

Or Superman/Spiderman who used to walk around downtown in full costume and in full character.

Or Box Man, who used to drive around town in a huge ass station wagon, collecting cardboard boxes and flattening them and filling his highly flammable house to the ceiling with cardboard........

Or my favorite....Martha the witch who used to "cast spells" on us as we threw rotten fruit at her mailbox in high school......and who used to drive around town in long flowy dresses with a dog in a basket on her bike ala Wicked Witch of the West!

That's it, I'm moving in with you. Make a room available, ASAP. I want to live in your town, and I want to see life through your funny eyes.

Doll Lady + Cyborg Chinese Crazy Lady 4-eva!

I sadly TALK to myself all the time in the car! I don't know why...sometimes I practice conversations I'm going to have with people...sometimes just saying things outloud will make me remember things I need or need to do....

And I HATE it when I forget that I'm doing it...stop at a red light...and then look over and get the "She's crazy look!" from the driver of the car next to me.

Thanks to handless phone chatting, you can now are free to sing your heart out in the car without everyone pointing and laughing. Just lift up you cellphone into view whenever anyone stares at you while you belt out a tune.

Speaking of CRAZY, this is a pic I got on Sunday from near Splash of a guy on Tom Sawyers Island.



No, your eyes are no decieving you. He is wearing a full superman outfit including gloves (but he was wearing board shorts instead).

Guilty! :eek:

Oh, I talk to myself ALL the time. Not just in the "reading off a mental list of things to do/remember" way. But in the "full on conversation complete with arguing with myself" way. (Most of this happens in the car.)


...maybe i shouldn't have shared that. :p

I sing and dance in the car. I don't care if people see. Hell, I want people to see, because I'm sure they'd get a chuckle out of it. Or maybe they'd appreciate someone that doesn't care what others think. Maybe it'd inspire them to have fun in the car too.
Me too. When you're alone in the car and late for something, or forgot something at home, it's an environment ripe for yelling at yourself. :D

I sing in the car, dance in the car, conduct imaginary orchestras in the car, practice oral arguments in the car (did I mention I talk with my hands?), talk at the other drivers (sorry about your tiny pee-pee!) in the car, provide running commentary whether or not I have a passenger...

But that's not surprising since I'm a motor-mouth outside the car, too.

I might have mixed feelings about cell phones, byut I DO love the cell phone camera. My goodness!

I'm also much relieved to now know so many people who practice imaginary conversations aloud.

Who knew my father and I were not the only insane sane people in the world?

And they were giving us s**t about candy corn hats?

No, this wasn't my cell phone camera. This was me opening my purse, finding my camera, turning it on, focusing and snapping all before the guy was blocked my the approaching Mark Twain. I was on SPEED, man!

Yeah. I am wondering how this guy was getting away with this "get-up" (as my Dad would've said).

LOL. My poor Dad. Always saying tome "You're not going out in that get-up are you?". The answer was always "yes, what's wrong with it?".

I have to amend my earlier post to add that I talk to all sorts of animate and inanimate objects. The cats, the toaster, the computer, the microwave, the sink that won't drain, the computer, the VCR, the cordless handset I can't find, the computer, the cans in the cupboard, my closet, the computer....

I do that, too. But I'm also the crazy who talks to her food. "Ooh, apple, you look so good to me. I can't wait to eat you!"

Bad.

My mother, a few years ago, caught me on the couch having an imaginary conversation with a boy I was interested in. I even had my arm on the couch, as if reaching behind him. And I was turned toward an invisible someone. And I was talking aloud.

In my defense, I really thought I was just imagining a conversation in my head. I had no idea I was acting it out.

Actually, that's not much of a defense, is it? Sounds like, since I didn't know I was doing it, I'm even *more* crazy.

I saw my mother. Registered surprise and embarrassment. And she just smiled, shook her head, said, "Just like your father," and then asked me who I was talking to.

"Jonathan Livingston. A boy at school. We've been writing. I'm nervous about our first conversation after we're both at school again, so I was, uh, practicing."

"Practicing?"

"Yes."

"You know that's crazy, right? That you didn't even realize you were doing it?"

"Yes."

"Okay." And then she kindly walked away.

I've got a friend, I'm ALWAYS catching her being crazy. Whether it's nonsense conversations with her dog, some bizarre noise combined with equally bizarre facial expression in reaction to something, or random conversation with herself, I catch her every time even if it's just for a millisecond. It's hillarious.

Although the best story with this friend happened at a bar. Totally not her fault, entirely my doing, and we both looked insane. We were seated at a table, and I dropped something, probably a napkin. As I reached down to pick it up, she noticed me pause for a second and come back up with a puzzled look on my face. She asked what was up and I responded that it smelled like armpit under the table. I then began the process of convincing her to join me for a sniff to confirm. She reluctantly agreed, so we both ducked our heads back down and began sniffing, comfirming with nods beneath the table top that it did indeed smell of BO. So we both return to our full upright seated positions...only to find the waiter had arrived some moments before with our drinks, and witnessed us sniffing under the table. And then, because I guess she thought this would somehow make us seem LESS crazy, she says to him, "It smells like armpit under there." Great.

Apparently you are far from alone iSm.

http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2005/...in689651.shtml

I've taken to sighing audibly lately. I hope it's a habit I break. SOON. My grandma does it! It's almost a compulsion now....I feel the need to sigh....audibly...right now!!! Crap!!!

Eliza, the town with the Doll Lady is McMinnville, OR. The same town boasts Superman/Spiderman and the Box Guy. Craziness!!! The funny thing is that before I met my husband (he's from there) I lived with someone from that town so I already knew of the town crazies. I used to be the sort of person who approached them and would buy them coffee.....and ask them questions. I talked to Doll Lady in Wal*Mart once, but she doesn't make sense, no complete sentences out of her. Superman wouldn't even look at me. And I've never seen Box Guy, but I've looked in his front window....all boxes, in a gorgeously delicate Victorian style house.

Martha, the witch, I talked to her once and bought her coffee at Mini-Mart when I was 19sh and it turned out she was related to a girl I went to school with...her aunt....but the girl never spoke up and told anyone. I felt really bad. For both of them.

I forgot about Bottle Can Clyde! He lived in the town where I went to high school....homelessish for years (he most likely had a house, never saw him sleep on the streets), then suddenly quit drinking and got a job at a grocery store (proximity to cans and bottles, I wonder?). He mumbled, cussed at cars, and wandered, picking up cans in ditches for at least years that I know of, before he suddenly went respectable. Weirdest thing!! And the funny thing.....his name isn't actually Clyde, but I can't remember what it is.

Gosh, I feel like wandering downtown to talk to the guy who pees in broad daylight (seen him do it now twice at my busstop) and the flashing lady with the saggy ass tits OR the guy who wears the white collar and claims to be from the Church of Venus......or the guy in the wheelchair who refuses to push it with his hands, so he scoots it with his feet, unless he can't make it up a curb, so he gets out and pushes it up the curb......I love that guy!

My husband does this ALL THE FREAKIN' TIME. Usually he confines himself to making horrifying facial expressions. We'll be walking along in silence and I'll glance over and his face is all contorting this way and that and I'm, like, what the hell? And he says sorry, he was thinking of something.

Sometimes, though, he forgets that it's imaginary and actually starts talking. I'll hear him mumbling and say what? What are you saying? And he'll look at me blankly and say he never said anything. Because as far as he knows, he never said anything.

At least your outloud conversations seem harmless. His tend to involve the word motherfvcker a lot.

GD, that's exactly the kind of bar interaction my friend Alli and I had all the time in NYC.

I love those kinds of bar interactions. LOL.

Sadly, notice in my story that it all happened before the drinks came...

Oh, I noticed.

Oh gosh, I practice monologues....dramatic ones....facially. But I don't think I've ever gone audible with them. I even have theme music going.....

Speaking of my theme music monologues.....I've always pictures myself in a movie, especially the opening credits.....my face going by in the window of a bus heading out somewhere in the middle of corn fields. When I was little, the bus was heading to camp where I would fall for an older camp counselor or I'd make a bet with my worst enemy at camp that I'd lose my virginity first or I'd cut off the back of her dress and then find out she was my twin sister. Then, when I got older, I imagined I was on that bus heading to college....then later, it wasn't a bus window, but a car window and I was breaking up with my boyfriend. But always there was some dramatic voice-over done by me, with some song in the background. Something by Bread or The Police or Captain and Tennille. And it's the voiceovers I think I practiced facially, but never audibly.

So far. I'm sure I'll go vocal someday.

I'm sorry, Claire, but you're just going to have to better parse that expression for me.

Does her ass resemble sagging tits?
Do her tits resemble sagging ass?
Are her tits and ass both participating in the sagging action?

Inquiring minds want to know.

I've been listening to my iPod as I run errands. Yeah, it turns me into a walking-in-time, lyric-mouthing retard. But man, it is FUN. Nothing better than walking through a mall listening to Fat Boy Slim's "Weapon of choice". I was prancing through the food court looking at choices, mouthing "You could go with this, or you could go with that." Heehee!

Music makes the world seem more meaningful, makes everything seem like a movie montage.

I do that when I don't want to talk to my neighbors or when I was trying to avoid a confrontation with my crazy ex-neighbors.

Just make sure your phone is on silent lest it ring when you're on a 'call'

I have my little mental images of each and every one of you that may or may not resemble your actual selves or your avatars. (For example, Kevy Baby is now a woman in my mental wanderings.)

But that's beside the point. Until supplanted by something else, whenever I think of CP I will imagine her prancing amongst produce, singing a little song.

Yes

Yes

Most definitely! She's a treat. ;) She's like a picture from National Geographic come to life in downtown Portland. Nipples the size of pancakes, too!

Heh, yeah, before everyone started posting pics of themselves, I had some pretty wacky mental images linked to people. Scrooge McSam still pulls up such an odd mish-mash....;)

Hell, that's far better than what many imagined as my original MP persona - that of a Goth male. :D

You're NOT?!?!?!? Aw crap.

Did I mention that in my mind you're wearing an Alice dress? Curiouser and curiouser!

Tori talks as she plays- always has. After she lost her hearing, we enrolled her in the deaf preschool, and her teacher was amazed by how animatedly she would converse with herself/toys/imaginary friends. (She was used to seeing children who were born deaf or lost hearing pre-speech, and Tori was one of the few hard of hearing students). The other kids would stare at her like she was from another planet. Of course, they were busily signing to their toys- as if toys know ASL.:rolleyes: (;) )

She is nearly ten, and she still does it. I don't know if I should be concerned- I like the fact that her imagination is so strong, but maybe it means she takes after Auntie Colleen......:eek:

There was a little 4 year oldish boy riding his bike past our house the other day. I had the windows open and heard this little voice mumbling so I looked out the window. He had gotten his itty bitty, training wheeled bike stuck on our lawn and was trying to manouver out. He was having a very hard time with it and, at one point stopped and said (to no one since he was alone) "I'm having such a busy day today!".

Cracked me up.

Ack, already mojoed you! Cutest story of the month! :)

WB - only children talk to themselves for far longer than kids with siblings do. If she were playing alone silently, then I'd be concerned!

Sweet! I always wanted one. But do I have the hair to match? That's what prevents me from doing the costume - I'd need to buy a wig too. ;)

No, you're a brunette. But you're having a really good time!

Just ride the Metro Rapid, nobody'll pay you any mind... :D

I wouldn't be TOO surprised to catch :iSm: peeing down his pantleg. :p

Cutest story. Man, I'm swamped at work today, so kid, I can relate!

I have such a device. And sometimes get wierd looks I have used it to be purposefuly unsetteling for instance while in a bizzare conversation at the computer fair Some lady noticed me talking and was arguing with her son about what it (bluetooth headset) was and dbouting the technology I overheard and let the conversation get even wierder and louder. My buddy was also at the fair and was triangulating on where I was still on the phone (with wired hands free) we concluded the conversation on our respective phones while standing next to one another. They both seemed shocked. (the desired result) but it could have been the subjects covered by our conversation and not the headset by that point.