i can smell the crazy

so i’m out with a few friends over the weekend and after a nice supper we head on over to the local pool hall.
now this pool place is on the first floor and has an outside balcony bit where you can go when your ears begin to bleed from the music inside.
3 of us planted ourselves there and began to chat about the meaning of life, world affairs, descarte’s philosophies, the dichotomy of good and evil, the nature of the human soul, etc (read: “we talked shit for a long time”).
suddenly michael jackson on crack appears.
it was like a thriller flashback… if his leather jacket had had any red in it i would’ve hidden the children right then and there!
this dodgy looking black guy (i make reference to his race only to strengthen the mj image and because it becomes important later) in a black leather jacket and 80’s style black jeans oozes onto the balcony and stands *right* next to us (in spite of the balcony being 90% unnocupied due to the cold) like he’s trying to huddle up for warmth.
he also puts his back to the wall and sneaks glances through the door like some sort of smooth criminal hiding from the law. made me wonder if there were any children crying inside, but since its a no under-18’s place i thought not.
you could smell the crazy!

smelling the crazy is a survival tactic that needs to be learnt if you want to survive (especially in south africa).
in fact you need to learn it if you just want to have a successful relationship that doesn’t end in attempted homicide.
forget all that bullshit relationship advice out there about what to talk about and how to have the perfect date etc…
guys, you want real relationship advice?
learn to smell the crazy!
and don’t be a dick…
women aren’t looking for crazy dicks unless its a one-night kinda affair. and even then they’re looking more for freaky than crazy.
your best relationship tool is your crazy-o-meter.
if the girl is coo-coo for coco-puffs then you need to bail like sane rats off the crazy ship.
some helpful indicators of crazy (non-gender specific):
eyes twitch randomly.
when blinking, one eye starts first and then the other.
froths at the mouth.
likes celine dion.
compares everything to the ex.
says thinks like “i’m the illest mutherfucker you ever saw.”

that’s right. mj pretty much introduced himself by informing us that he “lived in a world that we will never know” (its called crazytown you freak!) and that we “lived in a world that [he] would never know” (its called reality).
and then he told us that he was the “illest mutherfucker [we] ever saw.”
by this point the smell of crazy was turning into something more like a palatable taste of crazy like bitter honey that warned of bodily harm.
this guy definitely had the attitude that said: “i wanna be startin’ somethin’.”
we tried the tactic of smile slightly, nod occasionally, and avoid eye-contact, but he just wouldn’t go away and he kept talking until eventually one of my friends cracked and tried to reason with him.

reasoning does not work with crazy people!
how do you tell someone crazy that they’re crazy when they’re obviously the only sane person in the world, right? right??? right!!!!??!
unfortunately, by acknowleding his existence he had been given power, just like the staypuff marshmellow man was given form.
and from there it went downhill.
mj decided that my friend didn’t like him and so he did the only sane thing: ask my friend to hit him. in fact he offered us his hands so that we could hold him while our friend hit him.
we refused. i think that may have confused him.
that’s about when he broke out the good old new south africa classic:
(this is where his race becomes important. all 3 of us are white. he’s black)
he calls us racist.

being “fucking nuts” (clinincal term) is not race dependent.
we didn’t like you because we could smell the crazy on you. and because you were aggressive and trying to start a fight.
but that’s just a part of being “fucking nuts!”
you could be green with blue polka-dots and we wouldn’t have wanted to talk to you – Because You Are Crazy!
not because you’re black, it doesn’t matter if you’re black or white.
if you call racist without an actual reason then you fall into the “fucking moron” category. If you don’t have the brainpower to actually formulate an opinion or response, but instead simply shout “racist” when someone disagrees with you then you are a waste of biological material.
so: moronic, agressive, *and* nuts.
wow. i wonder why people don’t like talking to you.

that attitude definitely won’t heal the world.
luckily bullshitting is an art, and my friend has done a degree in fine arts (which is like refined bullshitting).
with some flair (and the phrase: “waxing the cryptic” which reminded me of the phrase: “bite the wax tadpole”) the verbal war began.
mj started to become more confused and went on about “talking straight” and actually asked my friend not to use such “large terminologichal” words.
moron.
eventually i think he relised that we weren’t going to fight and we didn’t give a fuck if he thought we were racist or not.
he mumbled something about his “three-fifty-seven” and “coming back to the club tomorrow and killing every mother.”
now i’m fairly sure that he was trying to be all self-debasing to highlight what he thought was racism here. problem was that with that amount of crazy you never can tell…

the night resumed to fairly pleasent after he fucked off back inside. we even spoke to some not crazy people (some of whom were, in fact, not white *gasp!*).
turns out mj had been bothering people inside too, we discovered when we met up with our friends again.
people like that make me want to scream.

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3 Responses to i can smell the crazy

  1. totalwaste says:

    just admit it, zen. it doesn’t make you wanna run away and hide, yeah – it makes you want to be the illest mutherfucker you ever saw.

    i believe the simplest response is to “make a call” – real or pretended, requesting “assistance”. all the while staring at him: if he makes a move, oops… balconies can be dangerous!

  2. Mr Angry says:

    OMFG! I suppose it’s hard to have a night out in SA without smelling the crazy. That phrase, by the way, is definitely going on a t-shirt:

    SMELL THE CRAZY

  3. Synkronos says:

    “oops… balconies can be dangerous!”
    Sadly, the canvas covers were down against the wind and rain =( Not even the most lenient, well-paid court would believe it was an accident.

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