Thursday, November 12, 2009

The Bad Penny

Well…now it’s official! My own personal freaky factor has been alas beaten! Last night I heard someone outside on my porch. I went to the door and looked out the window to see a guy I sort of recognized. I hesitated to open the door…since he had disappeared 4 years earlier with my garbage can. Before I unlocked the door, I told my friend on the phone to call me back in 15 minutes and if I didn’t answer, to call the police. He seemed a little concerned. Honestly…he should’ve been. Clearly this guy is completely crazy. I wasn’t about to let him into my house so I stood and talked to him on the porch so the neighbor’s would be able to see if he did something weird. I wasn’t certain if this was the best idea or not due to the fact that they had threatened to kill him if he came near me again…but after weighing the options, since they already had criminal records, I decided that it would be best that if they did, I’d be more comfortable with it happening on the porch instead of my living room carpet. He hugged me and said, “Why are you mad at me?”…um…I said, “You’re Michael right?” He said, “yes. I haven’t seen you in over 3 years. You know my father died right?”…He said, “Come on. I know. I was there. You were just too distraught to see me.”…I was quite positive that this wasn’t true since the hospital where he had been pretending to practice medicine as a podiatrist (without a license by the way) had told me that he had left his program and disappeared 3 years earlier. I lifted my foot into the air and said happily, “Well. This is really great because I think I have a broken foot.”…He just looked at me like I was crazy. He gave me another, “Why are you mad at me?” I wondered if he was kidding or if he had really lost nearly 4 years of time in his head. We had hung out for about 4 weeks from around Thanksgiving until a little after Christmas and the last I had seen of him was when I woke up from a nap to find him watching the super bowl on my wide screen TV at the end of January after not talking to him for 3 weeks or so. He was clearly insane. He went on… “I drove an hour to see you. Why are you mad at me?”…hmm…He had shown up each night during the time I knew him expecting dinner. Possibly he was looking for dinner?…I wasn’t making dinner tonight! Did I mention that he was crazy? He said, “But Cal. I could show you your letter?”…I replied, “The essay I wrote about Narcissism?”…he said, “No. The nice one. Why are you mad at me?”…I said, “I’m not.” He went on to tell me that he was practicing medicine in PA. He said, “I just didn’t want to die without saying I’m sorry. You were great!”…I replied, “Are you dying?” He said, “No.” I said, “Okay good. Apology accepted!…okay…so…I gotta go…I have to…um…do…something…” (Smooth Calia!…Couldn’t come up with an activity better than, um…something? Darn!…I hope the guys don’t shoot him…and where the heck did he come up with that brand new BMW sport utility?…hmm…I’m sure it’s stolen…and…what the heck does he want? …and make sure you call the hospital in PA and make sure no one really needs any real medical attention…) I watched him drive away as I locked my door. I’m certain that there is more to that story that I will never know…until one day when the police break down my door looking for whatever he has apparently hidden in my house that he must’ve come back for. Note to self: pull up the basement flooring if you smell decomp!…and check to make sure he didn’t steal the garbage cans again.