Crazy Guy Magnet

As you all know, I've had my (un)fair share of run-ins with Dog Park's Crazy Guy. Apparently, my ability to attract Crazy Guys is not limited by geography. At the end of my trip to Chicagoland, I had several unfortunate encounters with CGs. Two took place as I sat on a bench by Lake Michigan, enjoying this view and, as always, minding my own business.

I had been taking in the scenery and enjoying the lakeside breezes for about five minutes, when a group of fellow tourists passed by. They asked me to take their photo, which I was happy to do. I took the shot, returned the camera, and exchanged pleasantries. A moment after the group walked away, I heard a voice say, "Hey, you know what would have been really funny?" When I did not respond, the voice got louder and more insistent: "Hey, Camera Lady!"

The voice belonged to the guy sitting on the next bench over. A skinny dude, he had a baseball cap perched on his head and was missing several front teeth as well as his left leg from the knee down. My glance emboldened him. He continued, "It would've been really funny if you had grabbed their camera and run away, yelling, 'Thanks for the camera, losers! Welcome to Chicago! April Fools!'"

I nodded, "Uh, huh." Then I looked back at the water. Within seconds, another fellow lumbered along. To every person he passed, he gave this blessing: "Follow the yellow brick road." He even said it to the first crazy guy. I waited to see if some kind of reaction would occur—like when matter meets anti-matter. Would the clash of two CGs cause some kind of psychological black hole to form over Lake Michigan and threaten to swallow the entire city of Chicago?

Of course, nothing happened, but I did feel the need to talk to a professional. Fortunately, Bob Newhart was holding sessions nearby.

Be cool—in every sense of the word. -z