Carthage

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October 14, 2002

In which she contemplates serial insomnia

At the Exploratorium, there's an exhibit featuring small golden fish which led me to a fascinating discovery. I found that just by pressing a button and using my incredible mind powers, I was able to make the fish start and stop swimming according to my whims. The conclusion is so obvious (though it was not explicitly stated on the experiment's accompanying plaque): I am the god of fish.

So that happened.

Last night my schizophrenic homeless friend spent an hour (between 3 and 4 in the morning) screaming her mantra outside my apartment ("HolyshitHolyshitHolyshit...") When I say "my friend," what I mean is "the disembodied voice who comes along every few days to wake me up and creep the shit out of me."

I know my only real option to stop the voice is to call the cops. But I'm reluctant to have someone thrown in the clink just because I can't sleep. Well, I guess the other option is to go out there with some soup and a smile but Francisly she scares me.

I did try to use my mind powers on her, but it turns out she is not a fish.

You know what, if I ever have the opportunity to design a fantasy city, I will totally include a hands-on science museum exactly like the Exploratorium. Because that is seriously solid.

Posted by didofoot at October 14, 2002 08:50 AM

Comments

i too have never heard a fish scream holyshitholyshitholyshit!

Posted by: marc at October 14, 2002 11:29 AM

well, but how often do you stick your head underwater in the schizophrenic part of town/ocean?

Posted by: didofoot at October 14, 2002 11:43 AM

so, maybe you can teach her new curse words.or you could tell her to say, "please baby jesus, make it stop."

Posted by: tracy at October 14, 2002 11:47 AM

true. when diving/snorkeling, i avoid those waters. bad things happen there -- a nudibranch once told me. bad things.

Posted by: marc at October 14, 2002 12:02 PM

a nudibranch! to say nothing of eager sea cucumbers, or the breadth of the pink-tipped anemone...

we had some fish in the Bronx, and whenever we went on a drinking spree, the tank got kind of cloudy. these fish inhaled, rather than speaking, their own Holyshit, Holyshit, Holyshit!

Perhaps she is a drowning fish.

Pets are unsanitary.

Posted by: sea porn at October 14, 2002 04:33 PM

i'm going to offer a third alternative, which is "holla back." i know the grown-up niceneighborhood gentlemen might be afraid to contrib to the fracas, but that's no reason for you to waste your nightie on a couple of bare walls.

go out front and speak your mind. "shitHOly, shitHOly, shitHOly," you could sing, in counterpoint, and do a little bounce and slide.

Posted by: don't need no haters at October 14, 2002 04:37 PM

well, there again is the fear factor. the time she was out there at 11:30 on friday night (and what was i doing trying to sleep anyway?) maybe, but not so much 3 am when no one is around, like the ok corral. let's face it, toddlers could kick my ass.

Posted by: didofearful at October 14, 2002 07:34 PM

what you need is a professional... take myself, for instance. you need a mind, possible just as disturbed as the perp. so, here's what you do...
buy a squirt gun (preferrably a super soaker),
and fill it with red-dyed water.
you can have someone else squirt it on them if you are still a-scared. it is important to know that you must chant while spraying, "blood of demons, splayed flesh, then anything in latin." note: you must be crazy-eyed for this to be most efficient. fancy-pants could be very effective with this particular scenario, as he is so versatile.

Posted by: M@ at October 15, 2002 01:13 PM

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