What recent nut cases have your run across? Year Two!

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
21

Agreed. When I was in that line of work, the surreal experiences became almost commonplace.

I remember how it used to frustrate me that my clients, in general, would be very uncommunicative and uninterested in their cases, and I’d have to remind them constantly about court dates and showing up… OR they’d be insane to the point of leaving eight to ten messages per day for me (this was in the days before ubiquitous cell phones, thank the good Lord). I’d get back to my desk and find a stack of those pink “While You Were Out” message slips, ten slips with eight from the same client, all left in a two-hour period, escalating:

“Call me.”

“I called you and you haven’t called me back. I’m going to report you.”

“You still haven’t called me back and I’m going to tell the judge you’re not communicating with me.”

“I’m gonna sue you for not representing me by not calling me back.”
Then there were the misunderstandings, which can happen to anyone, but which gained a certain quality from the looney. I had a client that asked me to get him in front of a different judge, because the judge who was hearing his case had heard an earlier case of the client’s and accused the client of being a racist. He swore up and down that the judge had called him a racist in open court, which was odd, because the prior case was for not for anything that should have involved race – concealment of merchandise, I think – and even odder in that it had nolle prossed – that is, been dismissed. He swore he couldn’t get a fair trial from this judge, given those accusations of racism.

It turned out that the judge had said he was dismissing the case “with prejudice.”

22

Nutcases! Get your nutcases here!

A woman I know has progressed from merely having faith to being a borderline religious screwball.
• She has a collection of Chick tracts
• won’t take her son to the dentist (the chemicals in fillings cause autism, doncha know)
• the author of The DaVinci Cose has admitted to being a Satan worshipper
• not only was the government involved in the collapse of the WTC but they also took every one of the people from the planes and are using them for genetic experiments
This devout, Christian woman also doesn’t want her Type II diabetic husband to get treatment because he might lose his job as a OTR truck driver. Never mind that he might have a diabetic episode while driving and possibly kill someone, or at least himself. We told her that he could die if he doesn’t take care of himself (and he doesn’t). She told us that if that is God’s will then she is OK with it.

23

Was this a case of no one having explained to your client what that phrase means in a legal context, or had he simply been unable to process that information?

24

Spock: “I don’t think you’re stupid, I just think your behavior is arrested.”
Krako: “I ain’t never been arrested in my whole life!”
:smiley:

25

I mentioned this in passing a few days ago, and the cops haven’t called me back after more than a week, so I guess it’s OK to mention it now.

Last Sunday night some friends, me, and my wife, were crawling through a few bars on our way home from celebrating my birthday. Just around midnight we decided to go home, but my buddy and I decided to carry walking on to an all-night gas station to get cigarettes.

We were inside the store, and there was a guy at the counter. Let’s call him Fucknut. Fucknut was shouting at the Indian guy behind the counter. “I came to the hatch! You shoulda served me through the hatch! I might have been in a hurry!” He was in his mid- to late twenties, casually dressed in western clothing, but middle-eastern looking, with a beard, with a very light complexion. I thought he might be Israeli, as he had a sort of North American twang to his accent, similar to some Israelis I’ve met in the past.

I walked past him - not even brushing past him, and noticed he smelled strongly of marijuana - and he turned on me, rolled his eyes and tutted loudly. Then he spun back to the clerk: “Get me my fucking tobacco. I’m trying to get some fucking tobacco here!”

I went and stood in line, raising an eyebrow to my friend.

“Fucking HURRY UP you ASSHOLE,” ranted Fucknut.

At this point, a drunk girl in the line behind me piped up. “There’s no need to be rude,” she admonished. Fucknut turned to face the line.

“I don’t give a FUCK what any of you fucking think. It’s taking like fucking TEN MINUTES to get my fucking tobacco. You can fuck off.”

Eventually, after much ranting, Fucknut left. I got my stuff, paid, sympathised with the clerk, and went out onto the forecourt waiting for my friend.

Fucknut started to drive past slowly in his 1980s Merc, glaring at us. At this point the drunk girl came out of the store. She made a rude gesture to the driver, and he slammed on his brakes. Then he got out of the car and approached the girl. At this point I felt obliged to get involved - though she had provoked him, it looked like he was going to thump her.

“I don’t know this person,” I said, “and I don’t have any involvement in your dispute, but do NOT lay a finger on her.”

Fucknut turned on me. “You know what? I don’t give a FUCK what you think. I don’t fucking care what anybody thinks of me. Why don’t you and your faggot buddy just fuck off back to your faggy little fucking middle aged world, you fucking fags.” As someone who had just turned 40 about five minutes before, I was very offended by accusations of middle age: “How the hell did he know I’m 40?” I said to my buddy with a grin, before getting re-involved.

The drunk girl continued to tell him what an asshole he was, and then he said the thing that worried me: “You can say what you fucking like. I don’t fucking care. You just wait six months. You’ll hear about me in six months’ time. Everything will be different in six months!”

The girl eventually said “I’ll deal with this if you leave me and him alone” - so we backed off. I don’t know what she said to him, but he got back in his car and screamed off.

It was at this point I took his license plate and called the cops - ostensibly because he was stinking of weed, and driving around (hypocritically, something I occasionally did 20 years ago myself), but also because he was crazy and driving around - and because he worried me. The dispatcher told me that his abusive behaviour could be interpreted as “common assault” and I might be asked to be a witness, which I thought to be bullshit, and I was not particularly happy to be put in the situation if it arose, but then I’ve never met anyone so consistently aggressive and abusive. I reminded them he was on CCTV on the forecourt cameras and in the store. Just after we left the garage, a cop car with lights flashing zoomed past us, presumably in pursuit.

I’ve met some crazies and some dickheads in my time, but this guy took the fucking biscuit. There was something in his eyes that made him appear disconnected from the humanity of those around him, and seemed to hate the entire world.

26

Except for the pot smell, the profanity and the gender, you have just described my former director in my former job. (well, that person wasn’t Israeli, either). :slight_smile:

27

jjimm I’ll credit you with preventing a Muslim bomber from completing his course in terrorist school. I await updates if they happen.

28

Well, I think that’s probably a bit strong. During the IRA (Irish Republican Army) bombing campaigns, there was a class of people in Ireland called scornfully the ‘Irish Publican Army’ (“Publican” meaning bartender) who talked the talk about being terrorists, but were just bullshitters looking for a reaction. If that’s what the guy was alluding to - and it might not have been, it could be that he’s planning to appear on American Idol - he was probably just talking shit. There was just a tiny grain of doubt in my mind, though.

29

I miss the lady who used to stand over my seat in the bus, hovering like a vulture, staring at me with beady gimlet eyes while standing absolutely still.

But there was pornographic-sausage lady. And Frog Man. And the woman with the feather boa…

30

I’ll never be able to explain this with the full loony impact it had. You really had to be there, or at least be one of the six employees watching me on the security camera.
So, I’m at work, someone from the register comes and gets me, something about a lady eating cheese. Pfft, whatever, fine let’s go deal with it.
I walk out to find a lady, about 28-30ish, she clearly has mental problems (as in some form of mildly retarded) and smelling like alcohol. I could also see a small bottle of captain in her jacket pocket. She’s taking bites off a block of cheese*. Hmm, this is more then I bargained for.
Me: Ma’am, you have to pay for that before you can eat it.
Me: Excuse me, ma’am… You have to pay for that.
Her: Wepco is going to pay for it
[Wepco is/was our utility company, Wisconsin Elec Power Company]
Me: What do you mean, Wepco is going to pay for it, if you want to eat it, you have to pay for it.
Her: Wepco, is paying for it.
At this point she grabs the next block of cheese and starts eating it*
Me: Ma’am, if you’re not going to pay for that, I’m going to call the police, you have to pay for all that cheese
This went back and forth for about 10 minutes, she gnawed through about half of two 1# blocks of cheese* and the cops walked in just as she was going for the third. The cops took her outside and talked to her for another 10 minutes. After talking to her they came back in with an explination and a phone number for me. She was drunk, and had mental problems and had just been released from wherever she was. The phone number was for her boyfriend (who the cops had already talked to), he works for Wepco (okay, I get that part now). I got his credit card number and everything was paid for, but he was rather surprised that she worked though $12 worth of cheese.
*Ahh, you noticed the astericks, so, what could make her EVEN MORE of a nutcase? Well, those two blocks of cheese that she ate, (and the third one that she was about to eat), she never took the plastic off them. Nope, just ate it like it wasn’t even there.

But hey, it’s retail, another day another wacko.

31

Her name wasn’t “Wallace” by any chance, was it?

32

She never told me her name, she was too busy eating cheese.

33

Mmmm, cheese.

34

I wonder how she’d like the wax dipped stuff? I guess she’s lucky it wasn’t a display piece not made of cheese. The boyfriend would have wondered why he needed to pay $50 for a molded cheese :smiley:

35

:eek: She’s going to be constipated for a week!

36

Really pale compared to most of the examples here, but a few years ago there were a couple of gentlemen who would frequently be seen walking around town or in the mall. Everyone refered to them as Moses and Jesus. Yep. Full facial hair, robes, sandals. Walked right off the set of Ben-Hur.

I worked in the mall for a short period of time and was once approached by Jesus. First time I had ever been that close to him and aside from the wardrobe he could have been anyone else walking around in there. No odor, no meandering speech, nothing to indicate they were out of the ordinary. IIRC, Turns out they were just attempting to build up some sort of religious commune.

They disappeared a few years later, never knew what happened to them.

37

Bet the boyfriend was cheesed-off.

38

Bad Kool-Aid. (This is America not Africa.)

39

I recently had to deal with a nutbar with similar ideas. I work for a property management company and had to accomodate a strata owner who wanted to come in to review the strata corporation’s correspondence (as is his legal right.)

The reason? He was preparing “a lawsuit and criminal charges” against the strata, because they fined him for being in violation of the bylaws (making a bloody mess of limited common property.) Yeah, criminal enforcement of agreed-upon bylaws. Weird enough, but it just kept getting weirder. He wanted copies of the envelopes for all correspondence - so he could determine if Canada Post was part of the conspiracy against him. He was very upset that we didn’t have any envelopes, and felt that they should be retained by us, for correspondence both received, and sent. :confused:

(The correspondence folders for the building were fat with his graphomaniacal scribblings, as it turned out - beginning with a seven-page diatribe that he wrote as soon as he took possession of the lot, outlining his expectations and hoping that his experience wouldn’t be as "difficult’ as the last place he lived, where everybody was against him.)

He also wanted Workers’ Compensation and payroll files for all of the contractors that worked on the building, which he insisted we were required to keep, because according to his definition the individual workers were employees of the strata corporation. I could not make him understand that the strata had a contract with the contracting companies, and that there was no contractual relationship with the individual workers.

You know the expression “Mad enough to spit?” He was – literally, and repeatedly.

I have such sympathy for anyone sitting on that strata council. It was a nightmare as a one-off - but to actually have to live in proximity to that nutbar, and be legally required to address his concerns? Eeeeesh.

40

I think the emphasis on this story is all wrong. The scariest, freakiest part of it is not the cheese eating.

It’s that she has a boyfriend.

What kind of sick fuck is that dude???