Crazy People

It makes waiting for buses (and the subsequent journeys) so much more interesting when instead of a sullen Brummie looking annoyed at everything, there's a crazy* person repeating the same thing over and over to anyone who might vaguely listen. Top of the list, of course, is an old lady who wants to tell me how lovely my hair is; but crazy people are a close second.

There were two such folks who got the bus in with me today; one alternately shouting and singing "You can't go in this afternoon, mate" and the other with a more elaborate spiel about how "You only ever have one exam, that's music" (although he did then go on to contradict himself, saying how he'd failed two assessments).

That's not the interesting part.

These two, apparently entirely independent people were waiting at the bus stop at 8.30am (ok, 9.30am - but if my supervisor asks, I was in work at 9). They got the bus in to town. As I stepped on the bus at 5.30pm (fine, fine - 4.30pm) - they were both there again, shouting and singing their way home.

What kind of magical, wonderful day did they have? Were they perhaps just getting buses to and from town all day, entertaining the passengers? Or did they get to town, walk into the office and have a full, normal day's work before resuming their alter-egos? Maybe they're brilliant physicists who were doing important research all day, and just do the shouting for a laugh.

Or, even better, is there a club for such people? Do they have a full day at the club, with various shouting and walking oddly and talking to strangers rooms and sessions? Do they pop home at 5 to have dinner and get ready for the club's evening party, where they dress up in their best and bring their partners along for some couples shouting?

Next time I see one of these folks and I'm not so busy, I'll follow them and let you know.

Xx

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*'Crazy' probably isn't the PC term any more, but I may as well continue my downward spiral into immorality.