Michele with one L

There are no agnostics among crazy people. It's either Jesus or Robots, one or the other promises to rain fire down from the sky.

I was thinking about this while a woman poked her finger aggressively at my chest as though we were in some imaginary sword fight I was ill prepared for. We were 10 minutes into the conversation and the only words I spoke were "Cleveland", "Chad", and "Hello."

I was audience to this display of rambling insanity because I made the mistake of smiling at an oldish woman power walking through the park. Smiling is something I don't often do, and when I do smile it seems to be at the most inappropriate times. Kind of like while standing at a public urinal and I think of something randomly funny that happened 5 years ago - a friend falling out of a chair or something - and I get this huge grin on my face and turn to look at the guy standing next to me as though I'm going to fill him in on some hilarious joke, except all he is doing is glaring at me and I suddenly realize we're both holding dicks in our hands and this isn't the right time to be smiling.

"And I'll tell you something else..." She was working up a good spittle now and I knew at any moment spit grenades would be lobbing down on me. "Everyone from Cleveland was upset about LeBron James leaving and don't get me wrong, I understand. I understand." She raised her hands and eyebrows in the way that informs you that while she understands how you feel, she wants you to understand why how you feel is wrong. "But you know what? If I were 25 years old like him I would do whatever I wanted to make me happy. It's his right to be happy. And you know who gives him the right to be happy?"

If she actually gave me any time to speak I would put forth Jesus as the answer she was looking for. She didn't pause for my opinion, though.

"GOD! God gives us all that is good and he should get down on his knees and thank God!" She got on her knees in raised her hands to the heavens.

I wasn't too far off with my Jesus guess. Vindication was mine.

She didn't make the appropriate level of eye contact required of sane people. She would take a step back, bend at the knees as though doing some form of karate, and start swinging her arms as punctuation to her words.

"You seem like a good boy. A bright boy. I have a nephew who is about your age who is just as bright...maybe even brighter." The change in the topic was jarring. She was moving closer to me know, invading my personal space, and I was afraid she was going to try licking me. "You may not be half as bright as my nephew but I'll bet you're twice as delicious!" **slurp!**

I smiled and nodded with what must have been a stupid, confused look on my face as my brain tried to process the compliment while simulataneously computing the likelihood of her nephew from Columbus being more intelligent than me.

There was a voice in my head similar to that of a frantic jet pilot whose plane just went into a spin. "Eject! Eject! Get out of this conversation! Politely excuse yourself! This is going nowhere!" But my legs and feet were rooted to the ground. I could not move for the life of me. I had to see where and when she would exhaust herself and let me go. She might be insane, but I was patient, and I wanted to know if she would wear herself down and pass out from a lack of oxygen due to not taking a breath during her diatribes or if she would whip herself into a frenzy and go running into the street making Daffy Duck noises. She was probably not accustomed to people listening to her for more than 5 minutes at a time and I wanted to see how much stamina for crazy she possessed. In hind sight, I can tell you, it was a lot.

"I'm single. And that's okay." She shot off in a new direction. But being single when you're a little older is a lot different than when you're young."

Oh shit, I hope she wasn't going to start hitting on me now. Mainly because of the obvious reasons involved with her being mentally unstable, but partly because I'm alone in a new city and I would be tempted by the entertainment. I could just imagine the sight of us through a coffee shop window, me sitting silently while she flailed her arms around and sent spit rockets into my mocha. Or us side by side at a movie theater, again me sitting quietly and her sending spit rockets into the popcorn. The longer I talked with her (or stood there while she talked at me) the more she started to resemble Daffy Duck and I had to stop envisioning the arc of our relationship before I got to our wedding night.

"I've only met one man lately who I have been interested in dating." Again with the 10 mile stare. "A man who was...up to my standards." And what exactly are those standards? "Must be capable of withstanding Acme Mallet to the head. Preferably unnaffected by falling piano's and anvils. MUST NOT DRESS AS GIRL BUNNY." 

"Not that he wanted to date me. No no no. He had a girlfriend. I certainly didn't want to be involved with that." My Michele with one L, she may be Daffy, but she's no home-wrecker. "You want to know what he told me?..."

She launched into an explanation of how Wall Street was driven by greed, punctuated with  more jumping, and leaping, and flailing of arms. Just when I thought she exhausted herself she threw herself into a new, completely unrelated explanation of attachment theory.

"I've been studying attachment theory since 2003." Studying anything for 8 years that doesn't result in writing a book or getting a PHD seemed fairly retarded. "And I thank God every day that my mother was there to cradle me as a baby." She showed me how her mother cradled her (and I was surprised to learn it wasn't by holding her upside down by her feet). "Because that's what develops your brain. And if my mother hadn't done that for me, if she would have just dropped me off on the doorstep...well my brain just wouldn't have developed the way it did." The irony of this statement left me dumbfounded with glee.

I raised my eyebrows and wanted to respond but I could only feel myself start to babble, which caused me to start laughing hysterically, which caused her to look at me like I was a deranged lunatic. This only caused me to start laughing harder.

"Well it was nice talking to you Chad but I really better be going." I had my hands on my knees and I thought I peed a little.

A confused look came across her face and I realized I knew I couldn't adequately explain why this was funny. She inched away from me, "You have enjoy the rest of your Holiday..." She eyed me suspiciously, all I could do was wave her off and continue laughing, I fell onto a nearby bench. Michele took a few steps back to get out of lunging distance.

The first human in 30 minutes other than Michele and I walked past, gripping the leash to her Golden Retriver tighter in her hand and moving to the opposite end of the sidewalk. I like to imagine Michele shrugged and gave the woman a look that said "Poor guy. Completely lost his mind just now."

And with that I realized I now seemed like the insane person. I looked at Michele with one L and said "Sufferin Succatash!" and starting laughing again, as I staggered across the street, into oncoming traffic.