Touched Monkey

A Rant Worthy Of Toon Town

Ok. So. This really just happened to me the other day and I thought you'd like to know. This guy just came wandering into my office off the street (a common occurrence as explained below). He was white, about 6 feet tall, and he had a nappy 'fro at least six inches high and quite "bushy". Think Epstein from Welcome Back Kotter.

He was about mid thirties, had black jeans on - (or at least they are black now), what looked to be some sort of boots. He really needed a hot bath and a hole box of SOS pads. Oh, yeah, this too: He had a HUGE tear drop shaped "design" across his entire right cheek. Starting from his ear out to his jaw. This was done, recently, entirely, in thick bright red magic marker. It had complex "symbols" and "markings" inside of it. It was as though his ear (or someone inside it?) had something to say - kind of like a text balloon that you would draw in a cartoon. It was disturbing. It bothered me. It made me want my blankie. As he spoke I learned that I have more testicles than he had teeth. He looked at the ceiling and mumbled. The exchange:

Me: "Hi. What... can I do for you?"

Him: "Uh, ah, AH! um, are you the insurance company I'm looking for?"

Me: No. We're not. We're a computer company.

This completely baffled him and I almost felt guilty for throwing him such a curve ball.

Him: "Cause, um, ahhhh, um, ahhh, ahh!, oh, um, AHHH!
(this goes on for almost 20 seconds)
Could like, um, - do you know how I could get to another country?"

Me: (oh no, God no, no.) "No. I can't".

Him: (Looong pause then -still to the ceiling-) "Ah, Um, 'probly takes lot of money to do something like that huh?... (small snort)"

Me: "Yes! It does..."

Him: "Oh, um, ahh! ah. (etc..) ...wow. then, that would be a real problem for me then!"

Me: (sympathetic shrug) "Yeah. For me to". (apparently)

Him: "ah...um, ahhh!" ummmm, Ah!

Me: "Well! Sorry I couldn't help you... "

Him: "Yeah. Ok. ah! Bye. - ... "

Then he wandered out the door and started talking to another "interesting character" who was wandering along the sidewalk....

While this is somewhat humorous as I explain it after the fact, it was disturbing and a little unsettling as it happened.

Some background information: My office is in the center of what is affectionately called "Toon Town" (from the Loony Toons cartoons) by my employees and other trusted, non-politically correct (read: level headed with a sense of humor) friends and customers. We have at least six half-way houses/counseling centers within a one block radius and they are understaffed and overpopulated to say the least. The police and ambulance are onsite at least once a week to handle disputes and various "cries for help". Some of these people have done damage to themselves and to other people. Now, God forbid that I have a mental episode and am left in such care. Sometimes I actually do feel sorry for these people. But (you knew there was a but...) you don't need to be a qualified counselor to realize that these people are not one step from leading normal well adjusted lives as residence in a half-way house would traditionally suggest. These people are in need of constant attention and some (perhaps most) are heavily medicated or on some mood altering drug. Most smoke cigarettes constantly and it begs the questions: Who pays for those smokes? Who pays for the medical issues associated with smoking 1-3 packs a day? Does nicotine in any way interfere with any of these mood altering drugs? How many bars of soap can you buy for the price of a carton of cigarettes? SOS Pads? And mostly - Is this where all my tax money is going?

The local Burger King (two blocks away) is a popular hangout for these folks and I have seen at least one confused or defiant person/patient urinating in the lobby next to the pay phone. When the unconsciously tolerant employees of the BK have had enough (good to know urine is enough) they kick out the offending people and they take their "food" with them. Every morning I park my car and then spend a few minutes cleaning up our business property before going into my office to work hard to pay my taxes. Objects I have found (and picked up) in the three years that we have been doing business at this location include (but are not limited to!): Soda cans, cups lids, straws, bags from the BK; condoms (used - thank you very much); underwear (male - Fruit of the Loom - used - again, thank you); a bag of marijuana/pot/stink weed - etc.; beer cans (never less than 20oz); Mad Dog 20/20 bottles, a syringe, various panty liners and other random bits of trash and bio-hazardous material.

All this in the tiny little town of WAUSAU, WISCONSIN where I live and work!!!

Those who know me are well aware of my complaints, whining, moans, bitch sessions, and self righteous temper tantrums about all kinds of taxes and their misuse. I can honestly say - here in writing - that I would actually favor more tax money being spent on institutional care and adequate staff for these people. A place where they can be taught how to care for themselves. How to cook and eat healthy food (regardless of who is paying for it). Programs to help them stop smoking and stop the use of other unhealthy substances. How to wash their clothes, bathe and take pride in their appearance. If they cannot be taught such basic, simple things then they are certainly not ready to rejoin society and care for themselves and should remain in an institutional environment.

I'm sure that there are those who are offended and shocked by what I am saying. So cold, heartless - criticism from the privileged is worth nothing! Well, to those I say this: The ones who pay should have their say. Period. I should dictate how my hard earned money is spent - and I will comment on it. These people/patients are not being helped and are in a constant, stagnant (and filthy) state of confusion and boredom - some of it drug induced (that too funded by tax payers). Our tax money can be spent better than this. Some do not agree and think that these people are misunderstood and harmless (some are) and that the ones caring for them are working hard and doing great, noble work (some are). Those who can't abide such talk and deny my comments outright are hypocrites. I'll be watching the next time they are walking down the street with their kids and see the stranger up ahead who is talking to himself with jerky movements. I will be watching as their instincts tell them something that I can't - as they switch sides of the street and place themselves between their kids and the man with magic marker all over his face.