I feel like letting my freak flag fly..pt 2

So the previous blog is stories of dates gone bad. Some of us don't even get to the dates. Some of us get the freak flag at full mast right out of the gate.

Take for example the night Sylvia and I went to a bar downtown (Spikes Rat Bar) and i met a guy named Stu.

Stu was an older gent from the East Coast and he was nice enough, bought us drinks, and was a generally entertaining kind of guy. As the evening wore on, he asked for my number and me being drunk i happily gave it. I should mention that he got my number because he was going to take me out for a wonderful night on the town of dinner, clubbing, etc.

BAD BAD idea. Stu's freak flag was seriously flying that night i just didn't know it yet. He must have called my house 5 times before i even got home. Each message contained "suggestions" for his ideal evening with me.

You wanna hear what the ETCETERA was???
I want you to sit on my face and let me sniff your bunghole
I want you to smack my balls
I want you to shove.. WHOA Whoa whoa...ERASE now!

So while i'm listening to these messages, guess who calls. Yep it's probably 4 a.m. and he calls AGAIN. This time i'm there to take the call and tell him "i'm not really thinking this is a good idea." thanks anyway and good luck with....all that.

Oh, and i told him my name was Wilma so all my messages began with Wilma, you know what i want you to do?....

blech.

**********************************

Spikes Rat Bar again.

It's the Air and Water show in Chicago and never has there been a better time for two young single dames to go trolling for military types. This place would be crawling with Navy types. Think the Bar from Top Gun only slightly less HAWT!!

So i'm flirting with a "pilot" (that is what he told me, he was wearing what appeared to be some kind of flightsuit, and that is what i chose to believe.) and Sylvia was flirting with i don't even know who. But lurking in the background was an OLD MAN, waiting for Sylvia to look like she is without attention. At closing time we all march down the alley to an after hours bar to continue the fun and that's when Oldie Oldson attacks. I'm still talking to my pilot who is increasingly turning into an unpleasant and belligerent drunk while Sylvia is trying to give Gramps the brush off. Suddenly everyone in the bar hears "OH MY GOD" at top volume and i spin around to see whats going on.

Sylvia looks utterly horrified and she says "Do you want to hear what this guy just said to me???" He now is embarrassed and is trying to get me and my guy to shove off. "I didn't say anything, don't worry about, she's ok." Oh hell no. Sylvia is going to tell me what this man said.

He had the nerve to look her in the face and say "i want to eat you until your skull caves in" and then he licked his lips like he was trying to get chicken gravy from around his mouth.

Even the angry drunk pilot was like, ewh..seriously?

We got the hell out of there shortly thereafter.

*************************************************

So Sylvia and I are sitting at our fave place in the burbs (for a change of venue.) and a guy sitting next to me, clad in Buffalo Bills gear starts chatting us up. He seems nice enough, harmless older guy having a beer. Maybe somewhere in his 60s. We start singing Hey Buffalo Bill, who did ya kill, Buffalo Bill...we were drunk, what do you want. Anyway, Buffalo Bill is being a relatively harmless dude when suddenly he leans over to me and says "when is the last time you had sex. It's been years for me."

WhAAAAAAAAT?????? He goes on, "i just got me some viagra, wanna come home with me?"
He then grins this big shit eating grin and exposes teeth yellow from tobacco and dotted with flecks from his chewed up cigar. Oh hell yeah! Who wouldn't want to hit that?

Thats when we decided to move to the other side of the bar.

****************************************************

Let your freak flag fly!

I asked around my friends and coworkers about the freakiest/wierdest/or just plain off-putting'est dates they ever had. Naturally all the women had MULTIPLE stories so i had to expand my query to the guys. I got one but I'm still waiting for more!

Anyway, without further ado, here is the cream of the crop:




******************************************

From LD.

I went out on a date with someone that told me he worked in the Mayor’s office. Most likely the janitor in the Mayor’s office.

When we talked on the phone everything clicked, everything was great. Online this guy’s picture was far away, blurry and about the size of a postage stamp. But since I decided that I don’t like to be judged by my outer shell, I thought I would give this guy a chance. Anyway, he was working that night until 11:00pm so I was hanging out in the city with one of my friends eagerly awaiting his call. He finally did call and sounded angry that I was occupying my time at a bar with a friend rather than sitting at home all alone. He pulled up to the bar outside and told me he was waiting and to come out immediately. I told him I was settling up the bill. He sounded impatient and annoyed. I was rather annoyed and thought this guy better be worth it when I meet him face to face.

So I run out to his truck and I quickly pull open the door, jump inside and his head turned towards me slowly. His thick neck was practically hidden by his large head and when he spoke, his thick lips reminded me of a carp searching for food. Before I could recoil in terror, he said, “You don’t have to go out with me if you don’t want.” After a momentary pang of pity, I took action. Never before have I taken an out like this, but I ran with it. I made up some quick story on the spot of how my friend was inside waiting for her online date but that she had been stood up. I told him I’d call him later. Wonder if he’s still waiting…..

From G.

College junior year…I had just taken a break from the college sweetheart and decided to keep my options open and date around a little. The first guy I met was through my art class….that right there should have been a warning. Art guys are always weird. So it was a 3-D design class, project number two…create something that helps illustrate a side of you through only objects found in your home. We had been hanging out for only about three weeks, so I did think it was weird when he put a picture of me on this cross made out of vacuum hoses and kitchen utensils. I however, consider myself open minded and went with the flow. The day before the project was due I went over to his house and we worked on our projects together till the middle of the night. After falling asleep, I woke up with him standing over me…I was like is everything okay he was like yeah just about to finish the project go back to sleep…so I did. The next morning I left and told him I would see him in class that afternoon. So, I get to class and everyone presents there projects and has to explain what they used and why. It is his turn to go he takes out his cross and of course I see my picture on it…with something surrounding it…What is it you ask???? MY HAIR! He had cut pieces my hair in the middle of the night and glued it to the heart surrounding my photo! CREEPY!!!! I was in shock and my art professor was like good use of material…Material…it is my HAIR!!! I was so creeped out that I cut it off with him right after class. He told me I was not seeing the big picture that it was art. The next morning I woke up to the hair cross on my front porch….with a poem asking if he could wash himself with my hair. Needless to say I dropped that art class…when the professor asked why..I told her that I was scared what other parts of me would show up in art projects if I stayed in the class. She laughed and signed the drop slip!

From S.

OMG I have one – I don’t know if it’s funny but I am still pissed off about it.

During my junior year of college, I tried the online dating thing, Yahoo Personals to be exact. BTW, I have not dared to recommend Yahoo Personals to anyone. Well, I setup my profile on the site and I immediately got responses. I was like YES no more boring weekends with my roommates (I swear these chicks were from HELL). Initially all of the WRONG guys responded to my profile. I do not understand how men just simply DO NOT read. My profile clearly state obvious things like (If you are over 25 do not contact me because I was only 20 at the time but I got responses from 40 year old perverts who knew that I was still a 20 year old baby. ) I also had if you have kids or if you are not employed, do not contact me. I found out that men lie just because – no reason just because. The fact that your children do not live with you does not mean that you do not have any and just because you have a source of income does not mean that you are EMPLOYED (there are some real idiots out there). Anyways, I was ready to give up on the online thing about 2 weeks after I kept getting nothing but losers. So a few days before I decided I was going to shut down my profile I got a response from a guy that sounded Perfect! Let me tell you he seemed perfect if you were a female that did not look beyond the obvious. Unfortunately, for him I am the female that looks in all the nooks and crannies.

His name was Christopher W***s and he was FINE. He was 24 and a High School gymnastics teacher. He has recently graduated from Tuskegee with an education degree. OK so this idiot had a job and no kids. However, having 2 kids on the way means that your ass has kids. His excuse was that he was not sure that the kids were his so he was waiting to have paternity tests. Oh, let me tell you how I found out that this fool had two babies on the way. He came to my dorm to pick me up for a date and we went to my side of town for dinner. Come to find out you never know who knows you. I saw a couple of my friends and introduced him and I knew something was up when one of my girls asked me to go to the bathroom with her. I was on a date and she wanted me to go to the bathroom – red flag. She told me how this IDIOT was from her old neighborhood and he was a DOG. I could not believe it but I am no fool either. So I played it cool and we had dinner (I was hungry and I need a ride back to my dorm). When the night ended, he dropped me back at my dorm and we were sitting around talking. I asked him how he felt about kids and he said he was cool about having kids but not now. I asked him again (DO YOU HAVE ANY KIDS) and he said NO. SO I said DO YOU PLAN TO HAVE ANY KIDS IN LIKE the NEXT 6-9 MONTHS – the idiot still said no. So I just asked him about the 2 kids that were potentially his and he then said those are not my kids – YET. You mean to tell me you have a college education, you are a teacher for that fact of the matter, and you are SOOOOO stupid. I had him explain himself and he said that he cheated on those two women so he was sure that they could have cheated on him too, so he was not admitting to being a father. He had no proof that they cheated he just assumed they did because he did – talk about DUMB. Anyways, I told him thanks for dinner but I did not want to see him anymore. He told me how great we were together and he did not want to lose me. First, I do not have time to be a stand-in mommy to two kids. Second, you are a loser. Do you know this dummy broke down and started crying in my dorm room? I told him he had to leave and he called his MOTHER on me – his mother! I talked to her and told the woman to come and get her son. This boy – oops man sat outside my dorm room door for about 15 minutes crying until I called security and they escorted him out. DISASTER – now I hear that he is gay – seriously, he is gay now. Thank GOD, I got rid of that one.

Aries

The Ram
March 21 to April 20
Traditional
Aries Traits

Adventurous and energetic
Pioneering and courageous
Enthusiastic and confident
Dynamic and quick-witted

On the dark side...

Selfish and quick-tempered
Impulsive and impatient
Foolhardy and daredevil


it's amazing i haven't had more concussions from running headfirst into brickwalls...

Mama got a squeeze-box

I have decided that before i die, i will learn to play a concertina. I LOVE concertinas. So, now i'm sure most of you are are asking yourself-
Tracy! What the hell is a concertina!
Well, let me tell ya:
It's a little accordian that you play with just your two hands, in and out, side to side and...hey! Keep it clean!! As i was saying, it's a cylindrical accordian with a sweet sweet sound.

Listen to the soundtrack of "Amelie" and you'll hear lots of concertina work. I defy you to resist the allure.

Mothers Little Helper - click on photo to enlarge

A demo kitchen in the Merchandise Mart either had the most clueless or most naughty designer. This "loaf" of bread sat in the basket for nearly a month eliciting chuckles mainly from me and my co-workers until someone inside got hip to our glee and broke it into little pieces, ruining all our fun!

Gena's Eventful Ride

Enjoy…my morning!





This morning…it was freezing! 21 degrees with the wind chill!



So I walk to the bus and it is stuffed even more than usual, because on top of the normal bodies stuffed into the bus now all their winter coats and scarves are stuffed in with us.



Of course I am to late to actually get a seat on the bus; however, due to my height I am not really at the same level with all the other heads…more like at their armpits. So instead of looking at everyone’s face, I can’t see them because there is a layer of scarves above me, I stare at everyone’s shoes. It is cold out today, like I said, so everyone had on their brand new boots. I was like owww those are cute, I wonder where she got those?



Then my eye follows down the aisle, and I see a pair of pink pumps, with no nylons. No nylons in the winter….that is a little weird?? I follow the legs up to see who exactly is making this fashion faux pas. My eye catches the eyes of the biggest black man ever. I mean I did notice that the feet were abnormally large, but I wear a 6 so everyone’s feet are large compared to mine. He looked straight at me and said, “Bitch you have a problem?” No problem sir, just admiring your shoes…great color!


Just another CTA story!

The world according to Marvin Gaye

Inner City Blues, Make Me Wanna Holler
Marvin Gaye


Rockets, Moon shots
spend it on the have nots
Money, we make it
fore we see it, you take it
OH make you wanna holler
they way they do my life
make me wanna holler
the way they do my life
this ain't livin, this ain't livin
no no baby, this ain't livin
no no no
inflation, no chance
to increase finance
bills pile up sky high
send that boy off to die
make me wanna holler
the way they do my life
make me wanna holler
the way they do my life
hang ups, let downs
bad breaks, set backs
natural fact is
i can't pay my taxes
oh, make me wanna holler
and throw up both my hands
yea, makes me wanna holler
and throw up both my hands
crime is increasing
trigger happy policing
panic is spreading
God knows where were heading
Oh make me wanner holler
they don't understand

Mother Mother
they don't understand us
who are they to judge us
Simply cause we wear our hair long


* The more things change in our universe, the more things stay the same. This song was written close to forty years ago.

Online Dating

So i finally succumbed to the online dating frenzy begun by one and now (not!) enjoyed by many of us.

We have discovered that if you are under 40, thin and relatively pretty this will be an awesome idea. Everyone else should probably fuck off back under the rock from which we came.

I have a few observations:

1. If you are 50
a. should you really request 25-39 yr olds
b. who are sexy, slender and athletic
c. when YOU look as old and beat down as Ernest Borgnine with a head cold?

2. Do you really need to include "I enjoy making love often" in your profile?
a. Unless you are a eunuch, i think the assumption will be made.
b. It makes you look REALLY creepy

3. If your photo shows you holding a drink, smoking a cigar and standing with Las Vegas in the background, i believe you may be telling the world that you are a colossal douchebag. You earn extra points if two siliconed Paris Hilton/Kim Kardashian Wannabes are in the photo!



Happy dating, everyone! It's a jungle out there.

Update: Now i fully realize this is a feminine point of view. Gents- if you have a comment to make, speak now or forever hold your piece..er peace.

Japan's Booming Sex Niche: Elder Porn

That is right. Elder Porn. If hot young buff bodies aren't your kink, how about granny and papa going at it like two rutting mules? An article in Time.com features 74 year old Shigeo Tokuda who has starred in over 350 movies over the last 14 years. "Tokuda's exploits have proved to be a goldmine for Glory Quest, which first launched an "old-man" series, Maniac Training of Lolitas, in December 2004. Its popularity led the company to follow up with Tokuda starring in Forbidden Elderly Care in August 2006. Other series followed, and soon elder porn had revealed itself as a sustainable new revenue stream for the industry.

I imagine domestic cinematic gems such as...
Betty does Boca
Grandpa gets gummed
Granny Grunts...and how!
Driving Miss Daisy...CRAZY

Actually i think sexuality in elder years is a good thing. If you can still saddle up, why not go for a ride? KY and Viagra were invented for a reason.

I would prefer however for there to be a very heavy door, thick drapes and soundproof walls between me and the action.

When i was a much younger person, perhaps about 10 or 11, the boys in our neighborhood would get discarded porn from the factory workers in the many local shops.

Most of our sex ed came from photos in some very *ahem* interesting publications.
The most eye-popping came when God knows who came along with a magazine featuring a very white haired old lady BLOWING an old grandpa.

That was the day i decided to walk the other way whenever the guys came by with their latest finds. It's been 30 years and i can still see that (1930's porno retiree) woman giving a humdinger to an old coot.

This article just brings that image right back to the front of my mind.

Yellow Listed: i spy e.coli

I work downtown, medium sized company and we have a problem. There is serious Non-compliance in the hand washing department.

It has become a stealth mission to flush out these offenders and ID the dames who whiz and walk without any hesitation for hygiene. We aren't out to shame anyone but amongst us we keep each other informed and warned. This isn't an "outing or shaming" of a person. We want to know which foods to avoid at potlucks, whose hands not to hi-5 and which documents we should leave lay.

I know it's silly to skulk around like a rat listening for water splashing, and i am aware that studying the shoes of the person next to you so you can find them more easily may be a bit much..but if you're not a pee hand-washer, are you also not a poo hand-washer? I have no desire to experience E.coli so insane snooper i shall remain.

Finally, to the woman at Nordstroms who left a bloody, used tampon on the floor OUTSIDE the stall, next to the sinks...REALLY?

Did you fart so hard that it shot out onto the floor, slid to the sinks and there it should remain? Seriously, you couldn't grab some towels and pick it up?

A long-term love affair.

I was about 12 when i first saw Star Wars. That was the day i fell in love. His name was Han Solo and he was a ne'er-do-well from outer space. I loved the way he mocked the old man and the kid, threatened the 'droids and cast sneaky, curious & lusting looks at the young princess. His sex appeal was palpable. Men wanted to be him, women wanted to tame him.

Although Han was tough when he needed to be and tender when he needed to be - he really was quite often an asshole and i wanted him like a junkie needs a fix.

The dangerous past, sarcastic wit, and smoldering sex appeal sent my imagination soaring. I didn't know anything but the biological fact but i was developing quite a keen idea of how things may occur. My man was a space cowboy and i wanted him to show me the Pompatus of love.

1978: Feathered hair and spandex pants were not for me.

I wanted to touch his manly Chest Hair and get a peek at what he was hiding down those form fitting trousers. This was my adolescent fantasy. Han Solo in 1978, again in 1980 and then once more in 1983.

I have to admit, 30 years and a lot of grey hairs later i still want to touch that chest hair and sneak that peek. Only difference is i've been married and divorced and Han is now a 66 year old actor with grandkids. I do not care. He's my Cary Grant. There was a man who aged wonderfully and still had sex appeal in his twilight years.

Han can be 98 with no hair, one crooked Kukla tooth angled sideways, and a giant dead wookiee stuffed and mounted in the corner. He'll always be my first love, my first fantasy and my enduring ideal of what a man should be. Ok - Perhaps with a little less assholery. That shit gets old no matter how hot you are.

The Page 123 Book Meme

This is a pretty fun meme i copped from a friends blog. I won't tag anyone, i'll just post my contribution here.

Enjoy!!

The Page 123 Book Meme. Here are the rules:

1. Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.

from "Anybody Out There"

"Duh...because he asked you?" Testily she said "it was a joke. Sort of. So why won't you marry the guy?"
Incoherently, I spluttered, "Reason (a) I barely know him and i've spent too much of my life being impulsive, I've used it all up. Reason (b) Aidan has too much baggage and i don't want a fixer-upper. Reason (c) As you yourself, Jacqui Staniforth, said - and I bet you're right- he's probably a hard dog to keep on the porch... What if he's unfaithful to me?"

something to make you smile

I adore my dogs. They are like my little babies. I know, they are dogs-not children but they bring me so much joy and when i am feeling as low as i could get, they have a way of bringing me back. They are my salvation.

This morning i heard that a woman in Peotone was busted with stacks of caged puppies that she had mistreated and neglected. The animals are at PAWS animal rescue in Tinley Park. If you are looking for a pet, please check out PAWS Chicago, The Anti-Cruelty, or any other animal rescue for your new companion. They can and will love you unconditionally and nothing feels better than that.

Did i miss an opportunity or dodge a bullet?

when i was 16, just starting my junior year in high school i found out a certan boy liked me.

I went to an all girl Catholic High School and had been over-protected growing up so i really didn't know what to make of this.

I had been sheltered by a nervous grandmother who was going to do everything in her power to see that i got an education, a career, and then a family. The teen pregnancy rate in our family was a little high around that time so she was prepared to chain me to a radiator in the basement if she had to.

This boy and i met through friends. His friend was dating my friend and our crowd occasionally hung out together. I knew he was a nice guy so i felt confident that my honor would be safe with him.

Ultimately he and i started talking and decided to go to a movie. He was my first real "date" - one on one, just me and him. We went to see "Halloween 3 (or was it 4)
The Season of the Witch. I remember it for how awful the movie was. We had a nice time and i was excited to see him again, i was eager to face this new chapter in my life.

Well, my friends after our date decided to tease me. He was very tall, i'm very short. It was all good natured ribbing, nothing mean but i freaked. It was like they saw every vulnerability i had. I couldn't handle it and i just wanted it to go away. I stopped seeing him before we really started. I had already asked him to go with me to my Junior Ring Dance so i made up a feeble story about being grounded and unable to go. Pretty transparent.

We never really talked to each other again after that. Our friends dated for a long time afterwards so on occasion we'd see each other but he was never again cordial to me.

It's been over 25 years and for some reason lately it has been bothering me. I know that he's married, has a family and appears to be a content guy. Why i should let this bother me now, maybe it's just the reflection on all the chances i had in life and let slip away because i was afraid.

It's time to start grabbing the bull by the horns and stop being afraid.

I regret and have always regreted being so immature, and unwilling to stand up for what i wanted. I let someone who may have been a pretty decent first boyfriend get away.

The totally true adventures of a soft heart, a lost mind, & the random act of kindness. pt.2

Daryl and I sat on the number 7 Adams bus headed west to Cook County/Stroger Hospital.

I worried that once there we'd be treated dismissively, or written off as a nuisance.
Daryl did smell of alcohol but i was certain that it was not the cause of his problem, but an extension and aggravation of it.

He kept his arm around me, caressing my side-roll, and although no one likes to be reminded that they can "pinch an inch" (does anyone remember that long ago Special K slogan?)i just thought of a child who pats his mother's back or absent-mindedly strokes a parents hair. Daryl was not a child and it had been a while obviously since he had been one but he seemed as helpless as one. Perhaps I was being more maternal than was necessary.

He started to become restless, and started to get a bit more touchy than i would prefer so i had to constantly tell him no don't do that, yes we're almost there, no don't do that and yes, we are really almost there.

My patience was now beginning to thin. I committed to getting him to the hospital and i meant to do it.

The bus driver was very kind too. We finally arrived at Stroger and he held the passengers from boarding the bus until i could wrangle Daryl off the bus. This was a bit of an ordeal because he was pretty confused. Crossing the street, Daryl stumbled out of his shoes (they had no laces, recall) and so i had to step into traffic to keep an impatient driver from being rude. I held Daryls hand, held my other hand up to the driver to wait until Daryl could pull himself back together and drag him down the street to the emergency room admitting.

ER:
there was only one person in front of us at the registration desk. I asked Daryl if he had any I.D. as it would be needed and he pulled out a thick wallet. I was surprised by this because for one thing, i didn't imagine he had one and also i wondered what he could have in it.

He opened his wallet and i saw a library card, some id's and a State of Illinois i.d.
I'm not sure if it was a Drivers Licence or State ID but here was a man with an address, who was as decent and normal looking as you and i. My heart felt for him all over again. Mental illness ravaged this guy. The registrar asked him his name.
He was unable to answer, he mumbled, stumbled and made no sense. I handed her his I.D. and told her his name, Daryl T.

She asked what the trouble was. I told her he boarded the train upset, ranting that someone was trying to beat him, he was schizophrenic and needed help urgently.

She looked him up and down and replied "drunk, more like it." I said yes and schizophrenic on top of it. He needs help. She paid little more attention than she had to, put a bracelet on his wrist and sent us to a waiting room to await a blood pressure reading.

This bothered me. How exactly does a person having a mental illness breakdown get the help they need. Do we have to wait until they harm an innocent bystander or go mad and shoot up a classroom full of students? When exactly does a uninsured schizophrenic person get help?

I wasn't so worried about Daryl hurting others but i was worried that others would hurt him or worse, he hurt himself. This is why i made it my mission to get him to the hospital.
Sadly, i left DAryl in the waiting room with a hundred or so other uninsured Americans waiting for their turn and i imagine he probably wandered off and was thrown out before anyone could see him or bother to do anything for him.

I had to leave him because i was already two hours late for work and had no intention of sitting in a hospital waiting room for hours on end. I guess that is where i got selfish or unwilling to help. I don't know. I promised Daryl someone would call his name, to listen for it and to ask for help. If anyone bothered him he should talk to security. I tried to leave him calmed enough to get help. Did it work? I won't know unless we meet again on the red line. I keep my eyes peeled and hope for his sake that i don't find him again frantic and scared, drunk and out of his wits.



PostSCript:

I was on the CTA Red Line 2 days later and a man boarded and sat near me. In short order he started laughing madly and then mumbled to himself. I looked up from my book and thought, sorry brother....i'm not going through that again.

The totally true adventures of a soft heart, a lost mind, & the random act of kindness.

This past Wednesday I had quite an interesting experience.
A man boarded the Red Line and he kept yelling out “They’re beating me, the police is beating me.” Mind you, no one was doing anything to the guy so we all chalked it up to just another nut and went back to our sleep, Sudoku, and mindless staring out the window.

The guy got up and started staggering towards the back of the train (naturally where I am sitting in one of the rear solo seats) and when he gets to the back door he looked at me and started crying out that “they’re going to beat me, don’t let them beat me”.

For some reason, I felt that he wasn’t your run of mill drunken nut, but that something was really wrong. So I asked him “who is bothering you?” “He kept repeating the police, the police is beating me, don’t let them beat me.” I put my book away and I tried to reassure him no one was going to bother him. He slid to the floor, looking as sad, scared as I’ve seen someone in years. He reminded me of my school-friend’s mother who long ago suffered schizophrenia before she took her own life. The fear, the panic, the paranoia of an unseen pursuer, the need to get to safety, all those scenes came rushing back.

I tried again to reassure him that he was ok and I offered to let him hold my hand if it would make him feel better. In an animal like way, he was hesitant to take my hand. He looked at me, shrank back and then coming a bit closer he finally took my hand. He told me then that he was schizophrenic. I asked if he’d like me to call an ambulance, take him to the hospital for help. He said he was trying to get to Cook County Hospital. I told him again that I would call an ambulance if he wanted but he seemed firm that he would continue on public transportation.

I don’t know why but I offered to take him. I said, if that’s where you need to go, I’ll see that you get there safely. He thanked me but then grew suspicious. “You’re playing with me, please don’t play with me. If you’re not going to do it, don’t say you will.” I promised him, “I will take you there.” Will you register me too? “Yes I said. I will register you as well.”

We finally reached Jackson where a woman stepped up and whispered to me which buses would most easily get me and my charge to the hospital. She then asked if I was a mental health professional. No, I’m not. She said that I had done a wonderful job of calming him and gaining his trust.

I learned that his name is Daryl T. He lives up north, Edgewater, Uptown or Rogers Park, I’m not sure. What a sight we must have been. Me, a 5 foot tall somewhat professional looking white woman walking down State Street holding hands with a disheveled, staggering black man with no laces in his shoes (recently in jail or hospitalized?) a half rolled (and poorly at that) cigarette for which no one would give him a light and dirty ragged jeans constantly falling down.

Daryl and I made it to Adams to wait for the number 7 bus. He asked a fellow passenger for a cigarette which the man gave him but Daryl panicked again, sank to the ground and starting crying out, pleading with the man not to beat him. I reassured Daryl he was ok, while whispering to the other man that Daryl was schizophrenic. The guy could pretty much tell we had a mentally unstable person here.

The bus ride to Cook County is where the fun started. I got Daryl seated, paid the fare and sat down next to him. He took my hand in his, buried his face in my shoulder and wiped snot all over my coat. Normally I would be gagging and heaving at the disgusting thought but it strangely didn’t bother me. It was like caring for a child, you don’t mind things so much. A lady sitting across from us took out a box of tissue and offered me some. I happily took a couple sheets and Daryl turned his face to me as a child would to it’s mother, allowing me to wipe the mucous from his face. Again, I should have been retching and disgusted but it was just all in the days work, I was unfazed.

After I cleaned off Daryls face he once again lay his head on my shoulder. He then put his arm around my waist.
Great – I thought “This is where now I get stabbed or assaulted for my trouble.” All he wanted was to hold on to someone, so as long as he refrained from getting grabby, I allowed him to hold onto me. I felt him pinching my waist, yeah, I have a roll and he was playing with it.

So here I am, now getting my flab-grabbed by a snot-nosed schizophrenic who calms down when I rub his bald head with my mittened hand. If we made an odd pairing on State Street, imagine what the people heading West on the number 7 must have been thinking.


to be continued...

Inmates Running the Asylum

I got home at five minutes to seven this evening to find a note at my door.
"There is some question as to whether your ballot was properly marked and cast..."

What the HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL. I thought back on it and couldn't think of anything that would have invalidated my ballot but the polls would be closed before i could go back and re cast a vote. I was fuming.


I now see that my polling place was giving some voters "Invisible-ink Pens" Phew. Mine had ink so i'm ok but until i found this out, i was feeling pretty disgruntled by our half-assed 3rd world corrupt so-called elections. Now i'm just sad at how ridiculous people can be. I can look at this from so many angles, who is gullible, who is stupid, who just gave up fighting a losing battle, who is corrupt, who should be ashamed....it can just go on and on.

Read the full 1st person account here
The Invisible Pen Caper of 2008

and the media story here

An Inconvenient Truth

I'm in the laundry room about to put my wash in the dryer when i see a kotex pad in the machine.

When i mentioned it to my friend Michelle, she said

"you know, i've been broke before but GODDAMN!"