Outrageous People Make Life Interesting

When I was on fellowship at MacDowell, my friend Jeff said Pee-wee Herman was the most outrageous person he had ever met. Now, Jeff was (and hopefully still is) a Californian.

If you will remember, Pee-wee wrecked his career by committing “indecent exposure” at a porno theater (don’t ask).

I am irredeemably middle class, but I prefer wild people. Some even turn out to be dangerous (but not to me. They are very nice to me.) As a member of the great American middle class, I maintain excellent manners and etiquette. Early in my career, when I was a caseworker, they used to send me down to Intake to calm the maniacs.

I remember one day at Queens Center 53 when a person called Mrs. Canales showed up in Intake. I use her actual name because she was elderly then and is no longer alive. Mrs. C was purportedly the widow of a South American dictator and acted as if her late husband were still in power.

Each unit had five desks arranged in a row. As soon as he heard Mrs. C was in, Allen, her caseworker, hid under his desk and refused to come out. Everybody else was “busy.” So I had to go downstairs.

Another problem case was a young man (name withheld) who was apparently some kind of psychotic. He was quite handsome, but his eyes kept rolling around in his head like blue marbles. I succeeded in getting a few coherent sentences out of him.

Were the opportunity to arise, I would make friends with a cobra.

One somewhat wild guy, a personal acquaintance, got very close to the truth of my nature when, in explaining why he was breaking up with me, he accused me of using him for “entertainment.” He implied that my blood was thin.

I am constantly asking this question, but I never seem to get an answer: “I like everybody. Am I nuts?” Whoever has the answer to this burning question should call Murray Hill 6-1000 at any time of the day or night. All charges will be reversed.