I work downtown and tend to meet up with the crazy folk on a semi-regular basis. In my mind, most of the people are harmless. They may seem a bit crazy at first glance but I'm relatively confident it is just an air...a defense against the harsh world if you will. I also think some probably need to be medicated for mental health issues but are again relatively harmeless. But every once in awhile, someone crosses by path that I am convinced is completely crackers! Nuts, alot of cards short of a deck, completely unhinged and crazy!
I was having coffee with a friend at Tim's today and just before leaving I noticed a man sitting close to the door. It would have been difficult not to notice, really. That fact that every time someone walked by him he put his arm straight out, made a gun with his fingers, made a firing noise and then said "I'm going to fucking kill you!" kinda made it hard for him to go unnoticed. I tried to look cool and told Paula about him. We decided to leave at that point. We headed to the exit furthest from him just has he got up and walked toward the same exit. We quickly changed direction and left through the other door.
Once outside, I told Paula I was walking with her as far as I could. I normally walk back to work through an alley. I thought it best not to take that route with Mr. CrazyPant roaming around. We were waiting at the corner for the walk light and he walks up behind us. I immediately move so my back is not to him and I can see him. Rule #1 about crazies - keep your eyes on them!! The whole time he is standing at the corner with us, he is talking to himself. I kept hearing say stuff about "the fucking goverment" and "gonna kill you". Paula crossed the street and I'm left alone with him until the light changes. Paula didn't took her eyes off of me until my light changed too. I walked back to work just as fast as my short stumpy legs could take me. I didn't even turn to see if he was behind me.
I was really afraid of this nutball. I don't scare easily when it comes to meeting people. The nature of my job has me knocking on stranger's doors day in and day out. But this guy was scary. I hope I don't ever knock on his door, or meet him in the alley, or on the street. Hell, I don't want to see him across the corner. Creepy.
4 comments:
Hmmm...perhaps schizophrenic? Sounds kinda like it. Most are harmless, but some can be very violent. Best just to avoid him. He probably can't afford medication. Even if he can, he may not take it. A lot of schizophrenics refuse to take meds because it "messes with their minds". And most of those types of meds do have some very undesirable side effects.
I don't blame you a little for being scared. I would of talked on my cellphone or something the rest of the way to work. I will give change to panhandlers but not if they are gestering to shot me as I walk by!
OMG! that is scary.....you know me I'm leary anyway, I will not make eye contact with them, hell I won't ackowledge them but I do keep my eye on them.....
Ugh! Don't give money Nick - give them coffee or a sandwich or a happy meal - no money! In my opinion only!
OMG! That is crazy! It's almost impossible to walk downtown now. It's full of them!!!! There are more of them now than ever before. It is almost unsafe to walk the street now. They are walking down the street hollering to themselves about killing people, the damn government, mumbling goodness only knows what and then they harass you for money so that you can't even walk down the street. Yes...I know some people really need it but I'm with the Queen...I don't give them money. I may however buy them something to eat if I have money on me. But whatever I may do I have noticed an increase in homeless, mentally unstable and addicted people in the downtown core.
I'm glad nothing bad happened. Oh and apparently the needs assessment person is now saying there was no knife at all involved in the incident in my office. I believe there was and that she is covering her butt because she now realizes just how bad her decision was and the ramifications of her inaction.
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