Wednesday, October 19, 2005

That's Crazy Talk!

I walked into a McDonald's recently (I don't make it a habit -- I was on my way somewhere and needed something to shove my face with real quick) and walked into the strangest situation ever.

I entered the room to face what appeared to me to be two lines forming behind each of two cashiers. Naturally, I chose to stand in the shorter one.

I suppose I should have realized there was a problem when the long line appeared to be studiously avoiding standing behind the woman I ended up behind.

She was maybe mid-40s, thin, reasonably well-dressed. She was hunched over the chest-height counter, her hair covering the area where her hand met her face. Her accent and scratchy voice was a near-perfect imitation of Fran Drescher.

I presumed that she was on the phone.

"What are you tawlkin about? No, Britney. There's two Britneys in that class, blond Britney and short-haired Britney, which one are you tawlkin about? No, I told you that wasn't ... look, I don't know what you mean, but ..."

and so on and so on. I started tuning out the conversation and started instead to wonder why my line wasn't really moving for me to get my frigging Dollar Deal sandwich and head out of there...

... which is when I realized that the woman in front of me in fact was not on a cell phone, and instead, was, yep, talking to herself. I mean she was seriously carrying on an entire conversation to herself, complete with unheard interruptions from others which demanded clarification.

While I couldn't help thinking that this woman was clearly mad, I also couldn't help flashing over to that movie Ghost, where Patrick Swayze's character dies and comes to realize that Whoopi Goldberg's character can hear him, if not see him. Part of me wondered if perhaps this woman actually was talking to a spirit. Kind of shades of The Sixth Sense ("She sees dead people.") and "Ghost Whisperer". (Of course, if she was, she was awfully rude to him/her. I guess this happens when you talk to ghosts a lot: you no longer fear them and therefore no longer walk on eggshells around them. You'll yell at them and talk to them with a 'tude if that's the way you normally talk to people.)

I never did get my sandwich that day. I ended up having to buy a freaking $7 appetizer from the bar we went to for happy hour.

5 comments:

Steve said...

My money's on nutjob. I walked into a convenience store and was behind this screwball carrying on about people listening to her 'over wires' and her watch, and that George W. Bush was probably still sleeping. ('Course it was 4:45AM.) Apparently, she bothers those people at that store a lot. They were calling the cops as I was leaving.

Vince said...

I don't get it. What's the problem here?

cnkxry

p.p. said...

you should have said, "bitch, who is you talkin' to?"

duane said...

Whoa! That is great. But you didn't do what you are supposed to when you see people being crazy; treat it like double dutch, get in there and have your turn!!!!

kat said...

you weren't at the mickey d's by the courthouse were you? every other customer in that place is talking to themselves!