Story of the crazy person
So he went on to tell me about his shitty life and how he once had a heart attack, and should have been dead, but they did the electric shock things and revived him. Since then, he'd lost/quit his job, grown fat and become an alcoholic and watched too much TV, ate too much McDonalds, and his wife and kid hated him.
I was like, erm... what am I supposed to do about that?
And he told me he was miserable and wished he'd died when he had the chance.
At which point, I decided I would see if I could make a difference in this stranger's life. I like being remembered; maybe he'll remember me.
So I told him my shit and how I could have died, but didn't. And how my reaction was completely opposite, if I had died at sixteen... I mean.. sixteen is not a long enough life. How glad I am that I'm alive. How thankful. ANd I told him how I couldn't understand his ungrateful reaction.
And he went on to say how miserable he was, and it was impossible to be thankful for his shitty life. "My wife, I love her, but she hates me. My daughter calls me asshole," he said.
"Are you an asshole?" I asked, pretty bluntly.
"...that's a good question..." he said thoughfully, "I guess sometiems I am."
I then concluded aloud that if he was an asshole, they had every right to call him one.
He said I had a good point. He said he'd remember that.
He said he was fat and old.
I told him he could lose weight and that he was too old to be acting so childish. "Kids bitch about their shitty lives because they don't know what else to do. They haven't reached a maturity where they realize that they are responsible for changing the shit."
He said I had a good point there too.
He asked how old I am. "Seventeen," I said. "Mature for seventeen," he answered.
Then he told me he hadn't had sex since his heart attack. Well, with his wife. He had an affair with his high school sweethear. "My only orgasm since the accident," he said.
Then I started thinking, oh shit, I'm a dumbass. I'm on a bus in the middle of an unfamiliar city talking to a crazy person about sex. He's gonna like rape me or soemthing.
So I asked him why his wife refused to have sex with him.
"She says I'm fat and an asshole and useless."
"Are you?" I asked.
"Well.... maybe...kind of... well... good point." he answered.
I told him to change that too.
He said she used to cook him dinner every night, good healthy meals, and he missed that. So I told him to learn to cook and make her good healthy meals every night. "If you guys have been married 26 years and she's cooked for the first twenty, shouldn't you do the next 20?"
So he promised he would learn to cook.
Then I gave him a lengthy lecture about how he is in charge of his emotions and his life. No one can make you feel a certain way. I can't make him happy, his wife can't do it, only he is in control of his emotions. It's his responsibility to take care of the body and mind that he is in charge of. As an adult who was once happy and successful, that should be easy, I told him.
And when I was done, he said I'd changed his life and one day, he'd see me on the bus, and he would be a different man: In shape, in a suit, and on his way either to or from work. ANd he said he's never forget me. And he asked my name, shook my hand, and got off the bus.
I guess I did a good job being remembered. Lol.
I was like, erm... what am I supposed to do about that?
And he told me he was miserable and wished he'd died when he had the chance.
At which point, I decided I would see if I could make a difference in this stranger's life. I like being remembered; maybe he'll remember me.
So I told him my shit and how I could have died, but didn't. And how my reaction was completely opposite, if I had died at sixteen... I mean.. sixteen is not a long enough life. How glad I am that I'm alive. How thankful. ANd I told him how I couldn't understand his ungrateful reaction.
And he went on to say how miserable he was, and it was impossible to be thankful for his shitty life. "My wife, I love her, but she hates me. My daughter calls me asshole," he said.
"Are you an asshole?" I asked, pretty bluntly.
"...that's a good question..." he said thoughfully, "I guess sometiems I am."
I then concluded aloud that if he was an asshole, they had every right to call him one.
He said I had a good point. He said he'd remember that.
He said he was fat and old.
I told him he could lose weight and that he was too old to be acting so childish. "Kids bitch about their shitty lives because they don't know what else to do. They haven't reached a maturity where they realize that they are responsible for changing the shit."
He said I had a good point there too.
He asked how old I am. "Seventeen," I said. "Mature for seventeen," he answered.
Then he told me he hadn't had sex since his heart attack. Well, with his wife. He had an affair with his high school sweethear. "My only orgasm since the accident," he said.
Then I started thinking, oh shit, I'm a dumbass. I'm on a bus in the middle of an unfamiliar city talking to a crazy person about sex. He's gonna like rape me or soemthing.
So I asked him why his wife refused to have sex with him.
"She says I'm fat and an asshole and useless."
"Are you?" I asked.
"Well.... maybe...kind of... well... good point." he answered.
I told him to change that too.
He said she used to cook him dinner every night, good healthy meals, and he missed that. So I told him to learn to cook and make her good healthy meals every night. "If you guys have been married 26 years and she's cooked for the first twenty, shouldn't you do the next 20?"
So he promised he would learn to cook.
Then I gave him a lengthy lecture about how he is in charge of his emotions and his life. No one can make you feel a certain way. I can't make him happy, his wife can't do it, only he is in control of his emotions. It's his responsibility to take care of the body and mind that he is in charge of. As an adult who was once happy and successful, that should be easy, I told him.
And when I was done, he said I'd changed his life and one day, he'd see me on the bus, and he would be a different man: In shape, in a suit, and on his way either to or from work. ANd he said he's never forget me. And he asked my name, shook my hand, and got off the bus.
I guess I did a good job being remembered. Lol.