The Mad World

There is a blind man who takes the bus.

I take the bus now. It’s a challenge.

But anyway. This blind man is always on the same bus as me. He counts out the stops with nothing but an inner ticking of logic and recognition, and depends on this and the driver’s assistance to make his way to work and back home. We all stare at him with unbridled curiousity. You know how they say that your other senses are sharpened when you lose one of the 5? Well his back must be absolutely red, raw and sunburned with curiosity right now.

But that’s not the thing I can promise you.

I can promise you that one day my curiosity will get the better of me, and I will follow the blind man home, out of an aborted and ill-thought-out urge to see if he’s:

a) faking it

b) a serial killer

c) just a nice old man.

And I will report back to you.

I have walked on hot coals, and while it was not a traumatic experience, I would not jump to do it again*.

* (That’s not meant to be a pun. I don’t mean I’m physically crippled. It didn’t hurt me or burn my skin (well not that much). It just wasn’t, like, amazingly fun the way eating icecream, seeing movies or popping those seed pops on impatients is).

It doesn’t matter what time of the day you offer it to me, I will eat grilled cheese. Day or night, on a full, bloated stomach, after a week’s worth of being bed-ridden or even if I’m super-super thirsty, I will eat it. Try me. It will be a confronting experience for you, and a delicious challenge for me.