"What a Closetcase"

You can look at an office as a family. All the classic characters are there. Actually, scratch that. If an office is like a family, it would definitely be more Archie Bunker “All in the Family” than The Brady Bunch. If an office is like anything realistic, it’d be more like a bad TV sitcom, just without the canned laughter and commercials. Everyday I went into work, I knew a new “episode” would be airing right before my eyes. It’d either be a real tearjerker (like when I found out someone who worked a floor below me had Lou Gehrig’s Disease) or something very dramatic (when a co-worker of mine had a knockdown drag out verbal war with my boss…and won). Each day I waited for the director (either management or Ed Harris from "The Truman Show") to yell “Cut,” and I’d realize I was on a real show. Unfortunately, “Cut” was never yelled. “I’ll take you into the backroom” (wherever that was) and “My freakin’ cajones” (in horrible non-Spanish diction) were uttered, or rather screamed, but never "Cut." I quickly realized I wasn’t dreaming; this was really happening before me. Walking in everyday was like witnessing a car accident: you wanted to turn and avert your eyes, even help…but you couldn’t. It just happened too fast and too quick for you to react.

But what a cast of characters it was. I'll just start with one guy, the ultimate "closetcase." A guy, who if given a simple neurological exam, would have found out he had serious sociopathic tendencies and should have been institutionalized years ago.

To protect myself from a lawsuit or even bodily harm (though I don't fear him; if anything, I fear what he'd do to others), I'll just call him "Psycho Sid." Now Psycho Sid had been one of your office "stalwarts," a guy who started like almost 30 years ago and should have clearly retired 29 years ago. A bitter pill of a man, he had the whole "everyone is against me" mindset, even though he could get away with murder (And he almost did...I'll get to that). I mean what more could he want? He never adhered to the "business casual" dress code (he wore some sort of odd pullover, which he had in various colors), he could leave before his shift technically ended, and he wandered around the office all day, seemingly never being at his desk. But of course, being in an office, complaining goes hand-in-hand with just about everything, so whoever was around to hear this pathetic excuse, got an earful.

At first when I met him, I liked him. I had a problem finishing something on my computer (office-related software...is there a worse calamity in the world? Is it a necessity for it to be harder to decipher than Sanskrit?) and he actually helped me. He offered to be of service whenever I needed it, and I felt good. "A real friendly guy, and very helpful," I thought to myself.

But slowly but surely, just like every cubicle jockey, the chinks in his armor began to show. The stories began to be exposed on him. He was like the clean-cut politician who "inhaled" back in college. Except by "inhaling," I mean "throwing a chair across a room while everyone watched in terror). He never struck me as the short-fuse type, but after hearing this, it all started to make sense. After a few months, he started to give me odd looks and comments. Like the time I asked how he was doing and he replied, matter-of-factly, "Ready to kill." Granted, I was near heavy machinery, so of course I feared for my life. "Ok," I replied, as I slowly slithered out of harm's way. There was also the time the New York Mets choked more than a porn star on her first day to end the season. Sid took the loss like his own family had been brutally murdered. Now, I knew they would lose (I mean c'mon, they are the Mets...let the hate mail commence), but to take something inconsequential that hard was ridiculous. "You won't see me smiling today," he said in the elevator. Thankfully I was in it with someone else, but why did I always have to be in settings alone with this guy? Where was my college rape whistle when I needed it?

Later he began to show even more weird tendencies. He had this strange fascination/relationship with a co-worker of mine (a real Godsend...for a later post). Somehow it had evolved into how often he could "scare" her and her giving a very frightened, non-acting, reaction. Childish? Of course. Disturbing to watch? You bet. She humored him as well as she could, but it was turned into more fuel for the fire for the Psycho One. Soon enough, he'd be over at her desk, talking up a storm for sometimes more than 10 minutes at a time. Talking about what? I'll never know. All I know is one conversation they had was how he spent his "exciting" weekend: "I sat in front of the TV for 19 hours," he said, like it was something to be complimented on. "I only got up to go out and get food," he'd add, as if this would make it even better. He never said he got up to use the restroom, so use your imagination there.

Everyone knew to keep their distance from this guy, and to always be nice to him, for fear of Chairgate Part 2. I really didn't see the big deal about him; I saw him as nothing but a past his prime blowhard who would break down at watching "Bambi," and couldn't hurt a fly. Others had warned me how this guy was a joke, and at first I didn't believe it. But it was clear enough to me after seeing him for what he was, I gathered the same feelings about him.

But to wrap up this case study, the best Psycho Sid story was definitely the most recent one. Sometime a few weeks ago, he did his whole hilarious scare tactic with my co-worker, who of course, upon seeing this blob, did what any normal person would do: scream bloody murder and seek out the authorities. Well, maybe not that extreme, but I think she was holding back. Anyway, he scares her, she shrieks, and he then replies with some of the most chilling words ever uttered by a human: "Hit me," he says. Except it wasn't in a John Cusack 1980's type of way. It was more along the lines of something to be uttered in a creepy horror movie. Over and over again, he replied, "Hit me," while holding his hands out like a child. I didn't witness this, but heard all the gory details later recounted to me. If that's not the most disturbing thing you've ever heard, then I don't know what is. How the girl didn't find the nearest wooden stake and put it through his heart is beyond me. I guess she's more subtle than I am.

So what's the lesson we've learned here today, kids? Never look a crazy person in the eyes, and always run away from someone who looks like Humpty Dumpty.