My friend Allie and I have this theory … The Theory of Crazy. The theory states that everyone is crazy. But we are all crazy to different degrees and about different things. Conflict occurs when you are forced to deal with someone outside your level of crazy.
I’ve been thinking about how this theory apples to my life. There is some shit that only happens to me. I swear I must give off a smell only the krazeee can detect.
I used to live in Atlanta, near the intersection of Peachtree and the major east/west thoroughfare (Ponce De Leon for those in the know). The part close in to Peachtree was near the big Fox Theatre and was often frequented by trannie and male street trade. And when I say trannie, I don't mean Miss Gay World trannie. I mean 3 days worth of stubble, crooked wig, stripper shoes, and a mini skirt trannie.
Exhibit A. So, one day I was chilling at my apartment and decided I wanted some fries and a chocolate shake. So I threw on my baseball cap and barn coat and headed up to McDonalds. As I was walking, I noticed a dude driving by in a green wood paneled Family Truckster. Didn't think anything of it. A block later, there he is again going slower than ever. Weird yes, but I'm still all about my fries. The 3rd time he creeps by I finally catch on that I'm being cruised as a male prostitute. So, scream from the middle of the sidewalk, I'M NOT A BOY, CHESTER!!! After which he looks horrified and speeds off. Awesome day for my self esteem.
ExhinitB In addition to the trade we had a plethora of other local characters. One Dreadlock Dude and James Brown the most notable. The James Brown dude would walk around in full a full JB getup(permed hair, tight polyester pants, white belt, white shoes, sparkly shirt) carrying a boom box playing James Brown. Every block or so he'd put down the box and perform a JB dance number complete with HEY! and WATCH OUT NOWS! One night I was at MARTA waiting on my bus, and JB Dude shows up. He makes a beeline for me and starts pulling on me. I push him off and try to ignore him (I'm 5'9" he's like 5'5"). He comes at me again and we rinse and repeat. I guess I pissed him off because now he's on me like a howler monkey on acid. It took 2 big ass construction worker dudes to haul his ass off me and guard me till my bus came. so.awesome.
Exhibit C. At the same MARTA stop this deaf/mute guy comes and sits beside me. He's got a big ass legal pad and he starts showing me notes. I'm deaf, Can I have a dollar, etc. I try to brush him off but I feel kinda bad so I chat with him for a few seconds. Pretty soon his notes turn into, I like to have sex with little boys, do you? what.the.fuck.
If the Theory of Crazy holds true, does this mean I am more or less crazy than previously thought?
I’ve been thinking about how this theory apples to my life. There is some shit that only happens to me. I swear I must give off a smell only the krazeee can detect.
I used to live in Atlanta, near the intersection of Peachtree and the major east/west thoroughfare (Ponce De Leon for those in the know). The part close in to Peachtree was near the big Fox Theatre and was often frequented by trannie and male street trade. And when I say trannie, I don't mean Miss Gay World trannie. I mean 3 days worth of stubble, crooked wig, stripper shoes, and a mini skirt trannie.
Exhibit A. So, one day I was chilling at my apartment and decided I wanted some fries and a chocolate shake. So I threw on my baseball cap and barn coat and headed up to McDonalds. As I was walking, I noticed a dude driving by in a green wood paneled Family Truckster. Didn't think anything of it. A block later, there he is again going slower than ever. Weird yes, but I'm still all about my fries. The 3rd time he creeps by I finally catch on that I'm being cruised as a male prostitute. So, scream from the middle of the sidewalk, I'M NOT A BOY, CHESTER!!! After which he looks horrified and speeds off. Awesome day for my self esteem.
ExhinitB In addition to the trade we had a plethora of other local characters. One Dreadlock Dude and James Brown the most notable. The James Brown dude would walk around in full a full JB getup(permed hair, tight polyester pants, white belt, white shoes, sparkly shirt) carrying a boom box playing James Brown. Every block or so he'd put down the box and perform a JB dance number complete with HEY! and WATCH OUT NOWS! One night I was at MARTA waiting on my bus, and JB Dude shows up. He makes a beeline for me and starts pulling on me. I push him off and try to ignore him (I'm 5'9" he's like 5'5"). He comes at me again and we rinse and repeat. I guess I pissed him off because now he's on me like a howler monkey on acid. It took 2 big ass construction worker dudes to haul his ass off me and guard me till my bus came. so.awesome.
Exhibit C. At the same MARTA stop this deaf/mute guy comes and sits beside me. He's got a big ass legal pad and he starts showing me notes. I'm deaf, Can I have a dollar, etc. I try to brush him off but I feel kinda bad so I chat with him for a few seconds. Pretty soon his notes turn into, I like to have sex with little boys, do you? what.the.fuck.
If the Theory of Crazy holds true, does this mean I am more or less crazy than previously thought?
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