As I was walking home tonight past the Hilton I saw the Sleazy Green-Eyed Con Man ahead of me doing his thing. As I approached him he extended his hand, attempting to lure me into his ridiculous scheme. I gave him the fish eye and kept walking. He touched my arm, but he doesn't remember me. Must be because encounters like our last must be an every occurrence for that low-life. After crossing Taylor I saw the Little Chinese Man coming my way holding a large pink plastic bag. Obviously it contained the head of his most recent victim, but I wasn't horrified by this. He appeared disturbed by something as his gait was unbalanced and he kept looking behind him in a weird willy-nilly way- first over one shoulder, then the other, while walking in semi-circles down the street. He didn't even notice me and the sight of him behaving this way deeply troubled me. I stopped dead in my tracks and just watched him. I didn't even take out my crappy phone and try to take his picture nor did I text the Reverend Brown his location.
Seriously, I was about to stop him, ask him his name, and if I could be of assistance. But he looked so worried, as if someone were really following him and he wanted to get away, that I thought imposing myself on him this way would send him into paroxysms of irreversible terror.
And then I had the most unnerving thought I've ever had in my life: the realization that not only am I no longer afraid of the Little Chinese Man, but that I care deeply about what happens to him.
While I'm in the hospital, can someone please stop by and feed my cat?