A recent event where a fellow blogger related his getting looted by one F'd up Ted, reminded me of a weirdo that hangs out occasionally in front of my place of work: Thermos Man. Thermos Man is schizophrenic. I'm sorry about that, but I have to wonder about his handlers. When I say "handlers" I mean whoever is making sure that he's fed, clothed, cleaned up, and gives him money. He doesn't look like the feral sort that you usually see roaming the local "JESUS SAVES" mission. He looks taken care of and has a bus pass. From what I can tell, he roams a large area--riding the bus all day.
One of his favorite stops is right across the street from a courthouse. He likes to sit, smoking and holding court with his thermos. When I say "holding court" I mean screams at it, makes up with it, accuses it again of something, then screams some more. I usually can't make out anything that makes much sense. It's hard to decipher his unusual blend of English and echolalia. But one time he made perfect sense, and it's chilled me to the bone ever since.
Thermos Man sat on the steps of an office complex. I was watching him from an open window. He flips open the lid to a packet of cigarettes and starts to talk to the ones that remain, "I killed your wife and kids the other day, and now I'm gonna kill you!" He took out the cigarette and lit it up, took a puff, blew out, then let out a stifled laugh of satisfaction. "I smoked you dead, sir. Now, I'm gonna get your brother!"
3 years ago