Sanity, and a Lack Thereof

It's funny how you can know someone for a long time without actually knowing them. Oh, you'll have the gist of their mannerisms and habits and the like, but you won't actually know them for who they are.

I'd been dating this girl, Amy, for about 5 months when we decided to move in together. Things had been going pretty well up to that point (otherwise 5 months wouldn't have happened), and I was starting to get used to the whole "live-in girlfriend" thing when I had a stunning revelation.

The girl was crazy. Bat-shit crazy. Not normal.

But I suppose I should provide some details to explain this discovery.

I had come home from a long day's work, to find her staring at a toaster in the kitchen. No, you didn't misread that, she was actually staring at the damn toaster like it was going to start doing tricks or something. I spend the majority of every day staring at a computer screen (I'm an architect) and yet the focus she was displaying now on her apparently vastly important task far surpassed the intensity with which I gazed at floor plans all day long.

I considered just backing out of the room, or the whole damn apartment, as silently as I could, but I decided perhaps speaking to her would bring about some sort of explanation.

"Uh... what're you doing?"

Amy looked up from her enraptured study of the kitchen appliance with absolutely no embarrassment whatsoever. She looked like I caught her making dinner or something.

"Oh, hi Barry. How was work?"

She then went back to staring at the freaking toaster again! Like I was just a commercial and the toaster was the main event.

"This might be a weird question, but... why are you staring at the toaster?"

She looked back over to me and I could have sworn I saw the twinkle of insanity in her eyes. I probably imagined it, I mean what does insanity look like anyway? Anyway, I digress.

"Oh, that's not a weird question sweetie."

"So... can you... answer it?"

She got up and walked towards me (I had to fight the urge to... you know... run) and tapped me gently on the nose.

"Curiosity cooked the crow!"

And then she walked out, all smiling and sweet looking, as if she hadn't just said the most disturbing thing I ever heard in my life. That wasn't even the saying! Who the hell cooks a crow anyway? Who would eat one? Oh, I digress once again. Apologies.

The next instance of insanity came about a week later, when I had had a particularly rough day, all told. The computers at work were infected with some jumbo-retardo virus or something (I am not very tech-savvy) and the IT guy said he'd need at least a day to fix it. So I spent the whole day accomplishing nothing, basically just listening to angry clients on the phone who refused to believe not having computers should stop my work, which involved, you know, using computers.

Anyway, I left work at the absolute worst time, because that time happens to be when every city worker is leaving work and hitting the subway. There were so many bodies around me I didn't even have to hold onto anything as the train sped up or slowed down. There was even a fat woman behind me that I found to be quite cushiony. I don't even think she felt me with all that... you know, fat.

So when I got home I found Amy standing facing the door, with a ketchup bottle in one hand and a razor blade in the other. Yeah, I know, I should have just turned right around and left the way I came, but something made me stay. Perhaps it was curiosity, I mean how often do you see that combo? Tomatoes and sharp objects for cryin' out loud. Or maybe it was stupidity that kept me there. Yes, that was it. I'm stupid.

"Uh... what are you doing?"

"He who asks first, asks last laughs last."

"You're freaking crazy. I'm moving out."

Now, before I said I was stupid. Apparently I'm more than just stupid, I'm a downright idiot. I would say retard, but retards are smarter than me and they all know it. Anyway, I had just decided to break up with a crazy woman while she held a sharp object in her hand. And a ketchup bottle in the other. I don't know why that's important, but it just is.

She walked up to me, really slowly (I was backing away, a little quicker) and then she starts smiling. It wasn't a sweet smile, it was easily one of the scariest things I had ever seen in my life. So then while I'm thinking of my escape route (waiting for the elevator was out of the question, I needed to take the stairs and run down 11 flights) she says something completely random, throwing me off entirely.

"You would look good bald."

Now, I'm not the best looking guy around. I have an overly big nose, I'm out of shape, and I wear thick glasses. But my hair... my hair was easily my best characteristic. It was thick, I conditioned it regularly, I... think I'm getting off track again.

So she mentions baldness and then I realize she's holding a razor. And ketchup. So I panicked, and said the first thing that came to mind.

"Uh... no, I think you'd look sexy bald. Exotic, and all that."

"Oh! Beauty is in the baldness of the beheld."

The woman grinned broadly and went into the bathroom (still carrying the ketchup), and so while she shaved her head or whatever the hell crazy shit she was doing, I quickly packed my things and got the hell out of there.

The moral of my story? Uh... people are crazy and you should stay away from them.

Cheers.

WORD COUNT: 992

SUBMISSION FOR WRITER'S CRAMP 5/8

PROMPT: You have a friend that often misquotes things. An example is when something is difficult she says it’s like: finding a needle in a stack of spaghetti.