It Is Not Easy Making Friends With Crazy

Here at Elder House people seem to do a lot of walking around.  That is not my strong suit and so I listen.  The halls are very echo-ey and voices carry.

The smokers get up really early; I'm talking three or four in the morning.  Doors slam, walkers crash, and cigarette negotiations begin.  "I'll give you sixty cents.  Come on!  You know I'm good for it."  In the parking lot there is one guy who asks a fellow smoker, "Are you done with that?" and then lifts the burnt butt from the pavement.  It's a weird kind of sharing I suppose.  I miss the camaraderie not the coughing.  Some mornings I expect to stumble over a pile of upchucked lungs.

Skinny Cowboy Dude, sometimes with cane sometimes without, dresses in coordinated outfits like an old rock star.  Although Darling Eldest Daughter said once he was wearing a woman's shirt.  He is partial to long sleeves with the fronts unbuttoned.  Could he be showing off his emaciated chest or did he just forget?  His greetings are mumbled and, once I am past him, I can hear him complaining about the slowness of my pace.  And once, the fact that I am white.  Travis from Maintenance told me that Cowboy Dude is the one who keeps setting off the fire alarms.  At first I expressed concern.  Travis assured me it was simply because Cowboy Dude is always drunk.  Not sure what I should do with that information.

Yesterday I did the laundry by myself.  Had to empty the dryer while the load was still damp because I really had to pee and figured the hall was the wrong place for that.  I shared the pink arm chairs with a lady I've spoken to several times.  She seems so sad.  Once she offered me $10.00 if I would take her to Walgreens and then jumped out of my car and into the rain.  The car wasn't moving at the time and I told her I didn't want her money.  Maybe I insulted her.  Once she asked me about a book I was reading.  We the Living. Ayn Rand.  Sad Lady told me she had seen the author on a talk show.  I told her I was pretty sure Ms. Rand was dead. Yesterday she asked me for cigarette money.  I told her I only had enough to dry my clothes.  When it was time to switch the load Sad Lady said she would do it for me.  Since I am so mobility impaired I was tempted to take her up on the offer.  Evil Debbe made me think she might have really wanted my two quarters.  Who was the crazy one that time?

Elder House is certainly teaching me some lessons.  When I talked to Eldest Daughter about this we agreed that crazy isn't an excuse not to be friendly.  But it sure is more work.