Meeting the Mayor of Crazytown

Sometimes, there are drawbacks to being an ordinary, decent human being.

F'rinstance, let's say you want to go out to have a few drinks and a good time with some friends. So you go to a bar and sit down to the right of a perfect stranger who, without warning, begins to rave and gibber at you about how everyone's out to get her, how her plate of ribs was too expensive ("Thirteen bucks! Can you believe that? I don't have that kind of money!"), how her husband is a stupid fat lying jerk keeping her from her children, how her roommate (a Dutch-Indonesian "bulldyge") called her a whore and wants to kick her ass for no apparent reason, how she was once a "Hollywood actress" and was going to get back into acting if her stupid fat lying jerk husband wasn't sabotaging things, how she just got a job as a schoolteacher, how she spent all day in the hot sun selling flowers on the street (the schoolteacher job doesn't provide enough cash for ribs and beer, apparently), how she's smarter than everyone, how beautiful her son is but she doesn't have any pictures because her stupid fat lying jerk husband put them in storage and made her pay for the rent, how beautiful she still is at 45 ("Did I tell you I was 45?"), etc. until you want to take her by the shoulders, shake her as hard as you possibly can, and scream at the top of your lungs, "LISTEN HERE, LADY: YOUR HUSBAND DIDN'T KICK YOU OUT OF THE HOUSE AND GET A RESTRAINING ORDER AGAINST YOU BECAUSE HE'S JUST A BIG, STUPID JERK! HE DID THAT BECAUSE YOU'RE A BUG-EYED, BATSHIT CRAZY FUCKING BITCH! YOU. ARE. INSANE! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! SHUT THE HELL UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!"

But instead, you simply smile a wan little smile, nod at her, and say things like, "Oh, really?" and, "Ah, I see," or, "Is that so?" Because you're an ordinary, decent human being.

God, it sucks to be an ordinary, decent human being sometimes.