CRAZY

Every street has Crazy People. Statistically “X” number of C.P. divided into “Y” amount of available places to live = at least one C.P. per neighborhood street. While I’m certainly not one to throw stones, I’m speaking here of the more obvious of us who’ve decided for some reason they’d rather spend all their time in another reality. Some place where time is different, things aren’t how the rest of us see them and you may be invited in to see the show. Or not.

Something about me, however, affords me easy access and I take my guest star duties seriously. I have a part to play and like a true trooper, I speak my lines, endeavor to enter the action with ease and grace and recognize when my scene has passed and I’m no longer needed on stage.

YOUNG GIRL

I’m really not sure how old she is. She looks to be fourteen to sixteen but acts much younger and will shout and ask questions from across the street if she sees you. The last time I saw her she screamed out “There’s my friend! What are you doing?!”

“Just walking. You?”

It seems she was talking to Polly, not me, and continued talking to her as if I weren’t there. Polly patiently sat and let her pet her head while sympathetically looking to me now and then.

THE OLD BLACK WOMAN

She’s always smiling even though I think she’s homeless. I say that because although she’s never asked, she’ll take money when I give it to her. She loves the dogs and calls them “babies”. I always let her pet Polly because for all I know, it’s the only contact she has with anyone or anything at all - noone to touch or have touch back but Polly who doesn’t mind a bit. I wouldn’t dare to touch her myself because I suspect her history might include too many who’ve taken advantage of her. Once I handed her a five and she grasped my hand, the skin on her palms amazingly soft.

THE OLD MAN

He walks his dog but I suspect the dog is as old as he is, the two of them inching from corner to corner. Sometimes he’ll wave at me from down the block but sometimes I’ll turn the corner and there he’ll be.

“What’d you eat today?”

Chicken is good. I don’t eat hot dogs but they, apparently, are not. Sprite but not 7-Up. You spread mayonnaise thin enough that you can see through it. I asked him once if he’d been a chef.

“A chef? I’m from Texas!”

Silly me. Hey I don’t make the rules, I just follow them.


4:56:48 PM    sro home /