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Crazy and Coming Right for Me

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I realized it the day I was in German shopping center. The man was stumbling and yelling. He was dirty, certainly drunk, and headed right for me. Now, upon his entrance, no one would guess where he was going, but I knew … I have a magnet imbedded in my forehead and it pulls the crazies towards me. No matter where I am (I mean I was across the world, for goodness sake) they find me. And I stood there helpless while he had a full-on, one-sided conversation with me. I didn’t understand a word, but I could tell by the smirks of passers-by that he wasn’t being a gentleman.


What is this ability to have the oddest people come up to me and feel they can just say anything? Homeless people love me; crazy and homeless love me more. Sometimes, I actually find them interesting. Maybe they are preparing me for what could possibly be my future. Will I be one of them? I do love shopping carts. They are one of the handiest things invented. And I don’t like throwing out paper towels. I hang them to dry and then reuse them. My future could be a shopping cart and used paper towels.


Today, I was minding my own business, when a woman with a helmet (in a store, not on a bike) and a package of cheddar cheese under her arm, started babbling to me about her personal problems. My husband, who is used to my following of crazy people, just kept walking, knowing that it might be a while.


I do like unusual people. Are you a seven-foot tall transvestite? Come, talk to me. Are you writing furiously in a notebook and mumbling while doing so? Tell me about it. Are you ranting about the end of the world and want me to hear your take on it? Love to. So, really, it’s my own fault. My fascination with the unusual may just show on my face.


Although, the imbedded magnet doesn’t help.

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