While I was visiting Cathleen over the holidays, she reminded me of another story about "Psycho Ann" from the Time-Traveling Tuesday a few weeks back. Yeah, the one with the naked chick. Okay, pasties. Whatever.
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One of the favorite pasttimes Cathleen and I engaged in throughout our college years in redneckville was going to the open-24-hours grocery and/or Walmart. This was an especially fulfilling experience on Sunday nights when we returned from trips home to visit our folks for the weekend.
As we were leaving the grocery Easter Sunday night at the end of our spring break, we were cornered on the curb out front by Ann, a girl who lived in my dorm and who was also a friend of a friend of Cathleen's. People tended to avoid Ann because, well, she was kind of nuts. She blew up at people on a regular basis, and generally managed to alienate in short order anyone who was unlucky enough to befriend her in the first place. At any given time she was full of pent-up emotions that, in any case, were out of proportion to anything going on in her life. She was always angry about something and someone was going to pay! Unfortunately, the only people who were usually made to suffer were those who were subjected to lengthy rants about the troubles in her life.
You have to realize that back then I was pretty much just as sarcastic an asshole as I am now when you're telling me shit I don't care about. Unfortunately, back then Cathleen was still the meek, mild little thing who was always willing to lend an ear and be a friend to even the most troubled of souls.
"Hi, Ann. What's up?" she asked. Big mistake.
Ann launched into a monologue/epic story about everything that was wrong in her life at that moment. This took quite a while, though I remember absolutely none of what she had to say. It seemed like there was a lot of "he said" this and "she did" that, but I couldn't follow any of it and probably didn't even know half the people she was talking about, let alone how she was connected to them. And yet somehow we were supposed to be sympathetic.
Even Cathleen didn't have a clue how to respond other than to try not to laugh at this emotional display that was hysterical in both senses of the word. K glanced over at me a couple times throughout Ann's performance for clues. As usual, I didn't have a one when it came to this type.
When it was finally over, Ann let out this exasperated sigh to let us know she had finally finished her catharsis.
I think Cathleen was still reaching for something nice to say, but she was just so overloaded with irrelevant information she couldn't even pretend she cared a whole lot. If anything, she looked like she was just trying to hide her amusement.
On the other hand, I really and truely didn't care. I grinned at Ann and said in a mock-consolling tone, "Well, Easter candy will be on sale tomorrow."
Cathleen's facade of concern for Ann's emotions crumbled as she let out a huge gufaw. Ann didn't say another word as C and I hastily got away from her and headed to the car.
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