The above sentence is usually followed by the phrase we often hear from those who don’t want to admit the truth. Maybe I am but do me the favor and at least hear me out.

So this is my story….

I’m leaving work a bit early as I have to get to my daughter’s school for a meeting between my wife and I and the learning staff. As soon as I’m on the train and have located a less stained seat from which to park myself I pull out my kindle. At the very next stop and gentleman gets on and sits in the seat opposite of mine which face me. In my mind he could easily be mistaken for a cousin of Louis Gossett Jr. He seems pleasant enough in that he is clean shaven and his clothes are not showing to be any worse for the wear. Over his shoulder he has one of those single strap bags that looks rather nice. I almost find myself asking aloud “where did you get that?” but hold off as I notice he seems interested on something in the distance. Feeling relatively safe in my “risk assessment” I turn my gaze back down and into my kindle. Several pages and rail stops later I look up again as my squirrel mind demands of me and notice that the gentleman sitting across from me hasn’t so much as veered his eyes from where they were transfixed from when he sat down. Intrigued I start to watch him a bit more closely but do with behind the mocking actions of bringing raising my kindle once more. Two more stops and still no change. Then as if some saturation level had been achieved the man reaches into his jacket and pulls out a frozen single serving dessert from a pocket within. The man in the nice clothes begins to rip into the dessert with no abandon and drops all of the packing to the floor. I try to get back into reading my kindle in earnest but when I see him finishing with his “meal” he drops that too to the floor and wipes his fingers across the upholstery on the unoccupied bench seat beside himself. Then to top that off he licks what is left off of his fingers that he couldn’t get off onto the seat. Can you say “urine for some flavor.” He then goes back to staring out at the great beyond and I try to put myself back into my kindle. Two paragraphs later he repeats nearly the whole process over again with a second pastry. By this time I’m wondering just what kind of mini-mart he has knocked off and just how much of their inventory is up in his jacket. Things start to settle down again and he goes back to zoning and I try to go back to my own little happy place. Several stops later he pulls his shoulder bag and swivels it into his lap where he unzips it. He reaches in and handles something wooden that looks like a cross between a world war II pineapple grenade and a bowling pin, its hard to say as he never fully pulls it out. He then starts swearing at the aether in a dialect of pig latin I am unfamiliar with. By the time the train has arrived at the next stop he has apparently made his point and dominated whatever was causing him grief as he has zipped his bag back up and moves to get up and make his way towards the door.

This leaves me wondering about the worth of my life and was I really just a pineapple upside down cake away from exiting from my own train ride early? Then I remember my similar experience this morning on my way into work.

I got on at the last stop of the line which is also the first stop of the line depending on how you look at it. As I climb on board I begin looking for a seat with minimal stains and pass by a woman who looks like she is an “all day passenger”. These are typically homeless people who just ride the train back and forth all day until their next lottery ticket hits. In writing this I am reminded that the prize is now over 200 million and I need to buy a ticket. Hopefully I might win one of these days and wont need to ride the train back and forth everyday… hey… I just made myself sound-

Anyway…

I find myself a seat and it is within clear sight of the aforementioned woman. I pull out my Chromebook and begin to start one of my peer reviews for one of my writing group members. As I’m typing away I feel the scratch of the squirrel and find myself looking up every now and again. I happen to notice that another woman has sat near the all day passenger and is now apparently answering her question aloud with “It’s Wednesday today.” The conversation continues for a few more seconds and then the new lady gets up and finds herself a geographically different seat. I don’t think much of this and go back to writing. I then find myself looking up once more to scratch my squirrel and see yet another woman has found herself sitting near the all day passenger. She too gets up to leave and I find myself chuckling when I know I shouldn’t be. More Chromebook and another itch later I see a third lady has sat herself down and she too is getting up to find a better seat. This time however she lands near me, opposite me. I find myself interested in watching her settle herself in and no sooner has she been settled than she looks over towards me and does her own version of a threat assessment. Not five seconds later the seat across from me is empty once more and I am now left wondering How did I earn myself so much less time than crazy woman?

So this is where this whole thing comes full circle.

Am I one of them?

I don’t want to sound like a…but am I a crazy person?