Psychos
I went out to lunch with Brian today and he provided me with today's quote:
"I would feel bad about it but fortunately I was born without a conscience."
Do you see the kind of people I hang out with?? That's why I'm like this. So today's topic of conversation will be "psychos." Sorry about the weak segue there Brian. Disclaimer: Brian is NOT a psycho. Okay give me my ten dollars now. Anyway, let me begin by saying that I have exactly 4 talents in this world:
1. I always know the good places to eat and what the best items are on the menu.
2. I am very good at attracting lesbians, they seem to like me for some reason. I think it's my hair.
3. I can pinpoint someone's insecurities with almost eerie accuracy and expediency, and always know exactly what to say to them that will have them cringing inside and agonizing over my words for years to come. (Not that I do it very often. You know the deal, with great power comes great responsibility.)
4. I am a magnet for psychos.
If there are 1000 people on a subway and 999 of them are sane, me and that one psycho are sharing the little two-person bench on the E train. It's gotten to the point where sometimes I hesitate to look strangers in the eye on the street because psychos automatically take this as an invitation to converse AT, not with me. I'm not just talking about the flashers on the subway, I'm talking about all those crazy ass people that you talk to and you KNOW that they're not all there. There's just this look in their eyes that makes you feel as if they're slowly but surely building up their psychosis until one day it's bound to explode in a flurry of bullets at the post office.
Here's my Abracadabra story:
Abracadabra
(Sometime in April 1999 I think)
I was on the E-train one morning, in my usual zombie daze when I noticed the guy across from me had dropped 5 dollars. I debated the wisdom of telling him, because I already had an inkling that this was going to be a bizarre enounter. Now, there's nothing about him that should have given me any indicaiton that he was crazy -- he looked normal enough, young, marginally attractive..he wasn't dressed shabbily and seemed to possess decent hygiene. There was just something in his eyes that wasn't quite right. Carelessly however, I decided fuck it and said "Excuse me sir, but you dropped a five." He ignores me so I'm like whatever and go back to my book. After about three minutes of him staring at me and me pretending I don't see him in my peripheral vision, he starts talking to me, pretty much just going on intensely about his life. He tells me he's a boxer and of course I'm thinking ahhh that must be it, when he changes direction completely and starts talking about how he thinks we were meant to be together. Meanwhile, everytime someone gets in between us (I mean it's RUSH HOUR on the E train for heaven's sake) he screams at them at the top of his lungs to "MOVE!!!!" Then goes back and talks to me like nothing happened.
He says to me that he would pray every day and if Jesus was only going to give him one thing in life, he'd want it to be me. By this point in time I'm sufficiently weirded out so as we approach the 34th street station, even though I'm 5 stops early, I decide to get off the train. As I'm gathering my stuff, he walks up right next to me because I'm by the doors and I feel relief that he's getting off the train so I can stay on it. The sliding door on the left opened, but the one on the right stayed closed which wasn't surprising since it hadn't been opening the entire ride. The guys stands right in front of the closed door, not touching it and people begin walking around him to squeeze through the single open door. He looks down at me and says "You know, I want so much to belong to you but I can sense that you don't want to belong to me. And it's too bad...because I could give you so much. Watch this..." With those cryptic words he waves his hand --he's still not touching the broken right door-- and says "Open Sesame" and the fucking door opens and he walks off the train. From then on the right door opened at every stop. I was like...what the fuck just happened?
Random website of the day: Romp.com - Pretty much it's a collection of interactive games where the point in each one is to get some. It's funny as hell but you need sound and it's probably best to keep it away from the wifeys or they'll think you're a --you guessed it-- psycho.
