At some point in our life, we are go a little crazy, right? Some us go crazy in our youth – the pressures
and stress from school, friends, organizations, and lack of sleep. Others get hit with the crazies right before
they have that midlife crisis. And others,
well... they may just be certifiably crazy.
It was just another Wednesday morning (Happy Hump Day, by
the way!) when I stepped onto The 46, and took my seat across from a lady. I generally don’t get a chance to check out
my “friends” before I choose my seat until I get myself situated. This was certainly the case today, because I would
have picked a different seat.
I looked up at the lady across from me. She was wearing black gym shoes, jeans, and...
A hospital gown. Oh, and a Walkman
sort-of-thing with one side taped so the batteries would stay in. Fabulous.
Remember how my personal drivers always stop at that randomhouse / grocery mart on the way downtown?
Well, of course the driver needed to stop today, leaving my “friends”
and me with this woman. I soon realized
why no one, and I mean no one, was sitting around her. I’m just reading through The Skimm (sign up, and you will love me forever for all the wit and sarcasm found in this daily news report) and this woman
starts talking. Apparently she was
talking to me, cause she said, “Hey you, where you going to? I’m gonna start driving this bus. We need to go.” Oh no, please Mr. Personal Driver hurry up,
please, please, please. I was stuck
between a rock and a hard place – I had two options: stay on the bus and hope she doesn’t start
driving, or get off on Vine and stand by myself to wait for The 78. And the better option is??? Neither.
Thankfully, my driver was back with his bottle of water and
we were on our way. The lady kept
talking so LOUDLY about how she had to wear the gown because no one gave her
any other clothes (don’t mind the fact that there was a bag of clothes sitting
right next to her, but whatever.) She
was also cussing up a storm, and my driver told her that her police escort
would be waiting for her at the Findlay Market stop. Now, let’s just say I was a bit naïve thinking
that this was perfectly normal. Maybe
they had worked it out beforehand, I don’t know. But I was incorrect in my assumptions. The lady started freaking out about how she
wasn’t causing trouble (minus the fact that she wanted to drive the bus less
than five minutes ago) and started fake crying.
As we approached the Findlay Market stop, my personal driver was on the
phone with The Met’s Headquarters and was getting the police. I have no doubt that my mom really enjoyed
the text that said, “OMG, I’m about to watch the lady right across from me get
arrested!” NOT.
As the woman realized that he was not joking about the police,
she continued her fake crying and talked about how mean my driver was since she
didn’t have any clothes and it was so cold outside. Well, while those are valid reasons, it’s
actually hot outside, so good try. As
she sauntered down the street, my driver called The 78 driver to warn him of
the lady in the hospital gown.
Thankfully, the rest of the ride was uneventful, but I could
not be more happy to have arrived at work.
Keep living your dream!
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