orginally written on Feb. 23rd, 2005
Since I don't live within the city limits anymore, I don't meet crazy people as often as I used to, but this evening I got treated to a prime dose of uncut kookiness.
I just finished filling up the tank at the Chevron close to my house when this dirty, lanky cat walks up to me and starts yellin'...
"Hey, did you move my truck?
"What are you talkin' about, man?", I asked back.
I had my truck right here (points at my truck) and somebody moved it over there!" (points at the van parked at the next pump) "I know you moved it!"
"I didn't move your van, man."
BULLSHIT! You moved my truck!, he said, stepping up aggresively closer.
I stepped up on the curb of the pump to get a little height advantage on him and tried the logic approach. "Dude, tell me how I moved it."
"You fuckin' moved it!"
"How did I do it? With what keys did I move your truck?
The dude stepped up and got up in my face and said quietly. "That's what I'd like to know".
Looking in this cat's burning eyes, I confirmed my suspision that he was freakin' nuts. He absolutely believed I was his tormentor. I wasn't going to be able to talk him down, and at this point it looked like he might be wanting a fight. (Don't fight crazy people, kids.)
So instead I switched gears and pulled a politician's trick. I switched blame and pointed at the convenience store and suggested in an accusatory tone...
"Man, I'd go in there and ask them what's going on around here"
He turned around and walked back to van, grumbling under his breath, "Maybe I will". With that he climbed into the driver's seat and fumbled with his keys.
I jumped in my truck, started it up and hauled ass out of the parking lot. I took the time to drive a weird detour just in case he might follow me home.
Damn crazy people.