“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.