Quote of the Day: Blaise Pascal

“In faith there is enough light for those who want to believe and enough shadows to blind those who don’t.”

I think I need to start carrying mace or something similar because I ran into another crazy person on the bus yesterday and came the closest I've come to in recent years to getting beaten within an inch of my life.

When I got on the bus to go home, I made my way to the back like I usually do because I really like the sideway seats. I was excited because the back was almost completely deserted and that was before I knew why it was. I didn't even let myself be detoured by the scary looking skin-head looking dude shouting obscenities because I figured he was on the phone or something because I hadn't done anything to him. He was ripped in the ex-con kind of way and he looked like a fighter and I'm pretty sure his favorite band was Pantera. As soon as I sat down I realized his, "F___ you. You better not. Don't even think of sitting there, motherf____." was directed at me. Apparently, the back of the bus was reserved for lunatics on Wednesdays. I decided I wasn't moving though for a couple reasons. One, I had a rough week and needed to maintain onto whatever dignity I had by not letting myself be pushed around. And two, I hate how progressive cities are so scared sometimes to stand up to lowlifes for fear of trampling on their rights.*

When he saw that I was immovable, he gathered up his belongings and huffed his way over to the other side of the bus where he was directly facing me. He used this vantage point to start a friendly little chat with me. "Shouldn't have done that, Mother__."

"I'm sorry. Excuse me, Sir?"

"I'm not talking to you."

"Well you're talking and looking right at me."

"I don't talk to squares, man."

"If I'm a square you better stop talking to me then."

"I'm not talking to you." He was yelling and halfway standing up at that point so he was only about eighteen inches away from me and everyone else on the bus was pretending like it wasn't happening. "Just ride the bus and don't look at me. You think it's funny?"

"A little. I'm just sorry I ruined your day so much by getting on a public bus."

"How do you know my day is ruined? Not everything's about you. Why do you have to be one of those people who reads too much into everything?" he asked me, rather astutely. I'm sure several people I know would agree with his assesment of my character. "Just read your book, mother____."

"I would if you'd stop being such a jerk. I don't appreciate it," I told him.

"Why do you think I'm talking to you?"

"Well your talking to somebody so if it's not me then you must be talking to yourself. Maybe you're insane." I was mad now but kind of enjoying the buzz of the adrenaline racing through my veins.

"Oh, you do not want to go down this path with me. Bad move."

"Really? How do you know what I want?"

"You're so dead. Oh, man," he said like he was relishing the prospect of sticking a shiv in my ribs. At this point, I realized I was in real physical danger and no one was going to help me.

"I'm so scared."

"F___. Are you going all the way to Northgate too?"

"You know it."

"Wlel, I'm getting off now before I do something we'll both regret." We were about five miles from Northgate so I must have really annoyed him.

"Bye. I'll miss you."

As soon as he got off the bus, he stood in front of the door and taunted me. "Come on, Fatboy. Come upstairs with me now."

"I'll pass. I don't hang on with lunatics."

"Come on, Fatboy. Let's go," he screamed repeatedly as he rode up the escalator backwards and puffed himself up and down like a professional wrestler. And that was the last I ever saw of him. Maybe I hallucinated the whole thing because the bus driver swore he didn't see anything when I complained about it later and complimented him on Metro's security.

Yeah, I know I made things worse by egging him on. I knew I shouldn't have done it but I am coming off one of the most frustrating months of my professional career and had to burn off my pent-up aggression somehow. (Maybe I was also a little hurt that he didn't acknowledge my dramatic weight loss.) I also can't resist the allure of a good story. Even as he was promising to kill me, all I could think of was how my little bout of blogger's writer's block was over.



PS
I don't think the treatment of the mentally ill is a left or right issue but one of simple decent humanity. I think we can all agree the system has failed somewhere when so many mentally ill people live on the streets bothering and harming themselves and others.