crazy, like misery, seems to love company

Why oh why do the crazy ones seek me out?

They always find me. And talk to me. Or talk at me. Whichever.

And i'm too polite to tell them "I don't speak crazy. Move along and continue your search for leprechauns elsewhere."

Case in point:

A few days ago, a message of sorts was left on the shop voicemail. It consisted of some muttering, mumbling, various noises, and a random fully-formed word thrown in here and there. Needless to say, I did not return this call.

Then yesterday, whilst i was quietly sitting here doing absolutely nothing (Sunday is a quiet day in the shop) i hear the door go "ding dong" and before i can stand up to check who it is, someone lurches into the store and makes his way into the office. I stand up to block further entry into the inner sanctum of Subtropic, and this man starts talking at me. Same guy from the message. And he had the Crazy Eye- two of them, in fact. I could pick up a sentence here and there, but they didn't seem to make any sense. Things about NASCAR, various members of the Senate, questions about the Vandenberg (which i didn't get a chance to answer), mind waves, and so on. All delivered with the cadence one finds in conversation with a crack addict.

He leapt around a bit too.

Like a demented ninja.

Starting to get a bit worried, as i was the only one in the shop, i edged out of the office and took up my post behind the counter. He continued making noises and muttering at me, whilst i nodded and pretended comprehension. Meanwhile, i brought up facebook on the computer, and was about to send an instant message to whoever was the first name to come up as being online (Jim) saying "Help help help! Please call me at the shop!" I figured if the phone rang, i could pretend to be busy and the Crazy would go away. (See, i'm too nice- i couldn't just say "I'm very busy and important. Bugger off.") However, possibly sensing my distress via some sort of telepathic bond, my darling Zach called the shop. True to my estimation, the crazy sort of did a Tigger bounce out the door and went upon his merry way. I showered Zach with adoration, after explaining the story to him.

Somewhere in this train of events, i managed to get the Crazy's name, figuring Doc would probably know him. He knows EVERYONE.

On a whim, after i got off the phone with Zach, i googled this individual- Joseph Pinder.

Behold:

I found this on a website called "keywestmugshots.com." Arrested for reckless driving, apparently. Probably because he was trying to swerve around all the heffalumps and woozles racing around the streets.

Naturally i had to call Zach back and tell him about this. He said i won the craziest-person-to-bug-me award for the day. So now we have a contest as to who gets pestered by the craziest Crazy. Let the games begin!

P.S. i've given up the bosom theme. Miau said it was tacky. And Miau is wise.