Here's the thing about crazy people.
I LOVE them.
I was having this little "la cuca racha" (I can't
spell in Espanol) problem at the old assisted living facility-style condo, so
the bug man comes to spray. And....
HE.
WAS.
CRAZY!!!!
He was 6'6" and kind of looked like my Uncle Randy. He
was one of those guys who was big and strong and had gray hair and a gap in his
teeth and kind of had that George Clooney look. But he also had tattoos and
FOUR silver rings on his fingers that had skulls on them.
So I ask him if he's in a band or if he rides motorcycles.
Because guys who have gray hair who have tattoos and skull rings are in bands
or ride motorcycles and hang out at clubs like that place on "Pee Wee's
Big Adventure" where Pee Wee dances to "Tequila."
So he proceeds to tell me that he wears his skull rings to
remind him of the 4 times that his temper got him in trouble and he almost
killed someone.
Holy crap.
The bug man is going to smash my head in right after he
sprays for roaches.
Then he gets real chatty and tells me all about how he has a
mom and a sister and how he was 6'4" and 180 lbs in high school but now
he's 6'6" and 260. Then he opened my sliding glass doors and said,
"I'm gonna do somethin real special. JUST FOR YOU." So I'm thinking that
he's going to yank one of the glass doors off and chop me in half with it.
He says, "I'm gonna spray right outside your bedroom
window."
Aw.
Then he goes to the kitchen and gets on his knees to spray
under the sink. He says, "I bet you've never had a man get on his knees so
quick for you, eh?"
And I just kind of laughed, because when I'm scared that bug
man is going to chop my head off with a sliding glass door and he's wearing
rings representing the 4 times he's almost killed someone due to lack of anger
management skills, I just kind of laugh.
THEN, he proceeds to tell me, "You should have some man
come over and worship you on his knees. Every day. Hell, I'll do it." And
he starts bowing down and lifting his arms up and down, while holding his bug
sprayer thing.
I wanted to die.
Stuff like that humiliates me. I don't know how to handle
it.
Then he starts saying that he has a 14 year old daughter and
he's 41 years old and he is the funniest man IN THE WORLD. Then he shows me a
picture on his phone that says "take out Monday and Tuesday, and the rest
of the calendar says WTF!"
And then as he was headed out the door, I said, "Well
thank you for saving us from the roaches! You did a very thorough job."
And he said, "Well, I told you I'm good at what I do.
I'm only good at two things, and killin' bugs is one of them."
I hate it when people try to set you up to ASK something, so
usually I just state the obvious.
"Do you want me to ask you what the other thing is that
you do well?"
And he said, "not unless your mind is in the
gutter."
So I closed the storm door as fast as I could just in case
this guy was a serial killer/rapist/roach killer/bug man.
The last time a guy came over here to fix our garbage
disposal, he wound up going down to his truck, bringing his guitar up to our
unit, and serenading my roommate and me.
Crazy people. Love 'em.
